


Only the Dead have Seen the End of War [old]

by cowmelon



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, CC-1010 | Fox Needs A Hug, CC-2224 | Cody Needs a Hug, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555 Deserved Better, CT-6116 | Kix is a Good Bro, CT-7567 | Rex is a Good Bro, Canon-Typical Violence, Clone Centric (Star Wars), Comfort/Angst, Dogma (Star Wars) Deserved Better, Dogma (Star Wars) Lives, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Medic CT-6116 | Kix, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentioned CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Minor CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Order 66 Happened Differently (Star Wars), Other, Post-Bio Chip Arc (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), Pre-Order 66 (Star Wars), Protective CC-3636 | Wolffe, Self-Hatred, expect the unexpected perhaps, ive been sleeping at 5am for the past week for absolutely no reason excuse me if things get weird, plot twist? maybe? maybe.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowmelon/pseuds/cowmelon
Summary: Sometimes in war, it's hard to be the one that survives.After Fives' unjust death, his brothers are determined to uncover what was truly the cause. The deeper they dig, the more danger they'll put themselves in, but they're more than willing to risk anything and everything - including their lives - to ensure Fives didn't die in vain. Will they be able to do so before it's too late?*this story has moved to akaan'ade*
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Order 66 fix-it? Perhaps. Who knows? Keep reading to find out ;)
> 
> Hey! I just wanna say that this is my first actual fic that I'm posting and that English isn't my first language. Though I'd like to consider myself pretty good at it, sometimes my brain lags and I forget words, so I'm sorry if my writing is a bit wonky or if I use words inaccurately.

Inhibitor chips.

Conspiracy against the Jedi.

\---------------

Republic Intelligence had brushed off Fives' outburst as nothing more than a malfunction in his genetic code. _A defective clone_ they'd said. But how could that be? Troopers that hadn't known him well may have believed it easily enough, but those who did knew there was no way in hell that was true.

Fives was one of the best in the entire GAR. He was an ARC Trooper in the goddamn 501st! The best legion in the GAR who served under The Hero with No Fear himself. How could they just dismiss him as crazy, and nothing more? They hadn't even given him a chance.

Sure he was frantic, and to everyone else, he seemed unhinged, especially when he was spewing absurd nonsense about a conspiracy. But Kix had been the one to examine his body that night. He had been drugged. Heavily drugged. He wasn't himself. Kix was sure that if he had been in the right state of mind, he would've been able to explain himself, to defend himself.

But there's no use thinking of that now. Fives was gone. Dead at the hands of his own brother. Fox was just doing his job, following orders, protecting the rest of his brothers, but Kix couldn't help but feel angry. Though, it wasn't completely directed at Fox. To who or what it was directed to exactly? He wasn't sure. But seeing as Fox was the only clear cut answer, he directed his anger toward him. So had the rest of his brothers.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.

The brother killer.

Deep down Kix knew he didn't deserve it, that whoever had framed Fives was the one to blame. But most of the brothers didn't know that. They didn't know the whole story, because The Republic had done its best to cover it up. If you asked him, that made them look all the more guilty, though the Jedi hadn't seemed to be worried about it, so why should he be?

Well for one, he knows the truth- or, most of it at least.

It was him that met Fives at 79's.

It was him that gave the coordinates to Rex and General Skywalker.

He hadn't known the full truth then, but after asking Rex over and over, the Captain finally let up. Kix knew he shouldn't be revealing such classified information to a mere Chief Medic, but he didn't do it as his Captain, he did it as his friend. He knew Kix would let it eat away at him if he didn't- find some absurd way to blame himself for what happened.

What he didn't know was that Kix would start digging.

The official report had said that Fives had attempted to assassinate the Chancellor, but how could that be? He was so obviously distraught and out of it when they found him, which wasn't long after the incident. A drugged-up clone couldn't possibly have attempted that, and even if he did, that only acts as more evidence that he was indeed framed.

Who had drugged him? What was he even doing in the Chancellor's office alone?

Kix had so many questions and not enough answers.

Rex had mentioned that Fives said the Chancellor was somehow in on the conspiracy. How involved he was exactly? He couldn't say. But Fives was his friend, and he wasn't about to let him die in vain.

Fives died for this. He died because he cared that much about The Republic- the Jedi. Even when no one believed him, he kept pushing it, kept trying to uncover this sinister plot. He knew Fives wouldn't have gone through all that if he didn't fully believe in its cause, and he believed him.

No one may have believed him when he was alive- Kix can't even imagine how frustrating that must've been- but at least someone believed him now.

Fives was a good soldier, one of the best. He, just like the rest of his brothers, would gladly lay down their lives for The Republic, but Fives wouldn't do so blindly. He'd only go out for good reason. For something he believed in, and he had. He died trying to protect the few people in the galaxy that actually cared about them as clones, and Kix was going to honour him by that. But he was going to need help.

* * *

Kix and Jesse had always been close, ever since they'd been assigned to the 501st together at the start of the war, even more so after they were both placed in Torrent Company. They've been through countless battles together, and not all physical.

He wondered if it was a good idea to tell Jesse at all, for his safety's sake. It could cost him his reputation, maybe even his life, should they ever be discovered. This was essentially an illegal investigation after all. But he owed it to Fives and he couldn't do it alone. Jesse was one of the few he actually fully trusted, and Fives was his friend too.

It was late into night cycle on The Resolute. Most, if not all the troopers were asleep by now. Kix had woken up, his stomach grumbling. He knew he should've eaten more than that weird soup they served for dinner. He peered down from his bunk only to find Jesse soundly asleep, snoring softly. He chuckled to himself quietly at the sight.

He climbed down his bunk as quietly as he could as to not wake the other sleeping troopers around him and crouched over Jesse's sleeping form.

"Jesse," he whispered.

Jesse stirred but went back to snoring soon after. Kix sighed. Jesse had always been a heavy sleeper.

"Jesse!" he tried again, slightly louder this time while shaking his shoulder lightly.

"Mm-" Jesse groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening them to meet Kix's gaze. "Kix? Whad'ya want? What time is it?"

Kix held in a chuckle, amused. "C'mon," he said, standing up and gesturing for Jesse to follow him.

Jesse grumbled something under his breath before getting up and following Kix, still rubbing at one eye.

"Stop that," Kix said out loud once they were out of the barracks and into the hallways. "You'll damage your retina, the GAR won't have use of a trooper with sight problems," he joked.

Jesse stopped and rolled his eyes. "Yes sir, Chief Medic sir," he said while giving Kix a lazy salute as they started to walk down the hallway.

Kix snorted. "Whatever, Jesse. You hungry?"

"No, why? Are you?" Jesse asked before glaring at him. "Don't tell me you woke me up just to go eat-"

Kix laughed again at his disgruntled friend. "Well, yes and no. I need to talk to you about something."

* * *

At the mess hall, the two picked out whatever decent food was left at the food bar - as decent as military food could get. There was a questionable looking goo in one of the trays.

"Ugh, what the hell is that?" Jesse exclaimed looking down at it.

Kix hadn't noticed it until now. His nose scrunched up at the sight. "I don't know, but I don't wanna find out," he said, already moving as far away from it as possible.

Jesse, on the other hand, stayed put and continued to stare at it. His disgust slowly morphing into curiosity. Kix was already at the other end of the food bar by now.

"Hey!" Jesse called over to him. "Ten credits if you eat a spoonful!"

"In your dreams, Jesse!" Kix yelled back. He wouldn't admit that he had considered it for a moment, but decided against it. He didn't want a repeat of the soup incident earlier that night. Instead, he grabbed some chopped up fruit and a few ration cubs before making his way over to where Jesse was already seated. He sat across from him and Jesse slid over a cup of water.

"Thanks," Kix murmured around the rim of the cup as he took a sip.

"No problem, _ad'ika_ ," Jesse replied teasingly.

Kix shot him a glare. "We're the same age, Jesse."

"Yeah yeah I know, but I'm always taking care of you, makes me kinda like your older brother," he said smugly.

Kix tried to act annoyed but ended up stifling a laugh instead. Only Jesse.

"Well, I'm the one that patches you up every time you get hurt," Kix pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him.

Jesse's mouth was full when he replied. "And I appreciate that-" he said genuinely. Kix was about to say something when he heard Jesse mumble under his breath. "ad'ika."

Kix smacked his forearm that rested on the table earning a laugh from him as he tried not to choke on his food.

"Shut up," he grumbled.

Jesse forced himself to calm down before gulping down his food followed by some water.

"Heh, alright alright. So, what did you wanna talk about?"

Right. Kix had almost forgotten about that.

"I... Um, well-" he stuttered out, struggling to find the right words to explain. He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

Jesse looked at him expectantly, worriedly almost. But he remained silent, giving Kix time to gather his thoughts.

"It- It's about Fives," Kix said quietly, eyes downcast, anxiety rising in his chest. He heard Jesse take a sharp breath and held it before letting it out slowly.

"Okay... Um, what about Fives?" he asked, his tone matching Kix's, soft and worried.

"You heard about what happened, right?" his eyes remained downcast.

"I only know what I was told," Jesse said honestly. He didn't believe it either- the report, but he hadn't dared question anyone about it.

"I was the one that did the autopsy on his body that night," Kix said, voice growing even softer, but not any quieter. He looked up at Jesse only to find his eyes filled with worry. Jesse silently motioned for him to continue.

"He wasn't crazy. He hadn't gone mad. It wasn't the removal of his chip that made him that way, he was drugged!" his voice gradually rose as he went on until he was full-on yelling. He looked at Jesse again who looked surprised but quickly recovered as his face turned back into that of a worried brother.

He was breathing heavily. His chest hurt. He clutched his head in his hands and tried not to cry.

"If it upsets you to talk about it maybe we can--"

"No," Kix said firmly. He had to tell him, and he had to tell him now. It wouldn't be safe to tell him any other time.

"I... I asked Rex about it," he said as he wiped a hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself down, his voice wavered slightly but gradually became more stable

Jesse stayed silent, unsure of where this was going. He didn't want to interrupt or upset Kix anymore than he already was.

"He told me what Fives said. He told me everything."

* * *

Jesse starred down at his tray of food, brows furrowed. A bead of cold sweat trickled its way down the back of his neck.

"Look- Jesse, you don't have to help me if you don't want to I just-" Kix blurted out frantically, Jesse's silence making anxiety rush back up into his chest.

He cut himself off when Jesse reached out a hand to grab his. A firm yet gentle grip. He knew what it meant.

 _I'm here_.

"N-no," he began. "No, Kix. I want to help you. You're my best friend. I can't just let this eat away at you alone. Besides, Fives was my friend too. And he was a damn good trooper. He deserved better". Jesse finally looked up from his tray as he finished, locking eyes with Kix.

Kix starred back silently, mouth slightly agape as if he was trying to say something, but couldn't quite get the right words out. Jesse gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. _Take your time_.

His shoulders slumped slightly, a bit more relaxed. He glanced down before looking back up at Jesse, searching his eyes for any hint of reluctance. He wouldn't force Jesse into this if he felt even the slightest bit of unease about it, but all he saw in his eyes was determination.

"Thank you, Jesse."

* * *

"Where do you think we should start?" Jesse asked, looking up to face Kix who was hunched over his datapad on his bunk, feet dangling off the side.

It was their day cycle by now and they had the barracks all to themselves. The rest of the men were out doing their own thing. That usually meant that they were either at the mess hall or the gym. There wasn't much else to do on a star destroyer after all, and they were bored of just sitting around with no action.

Kix furrowed his brows, focused as he scrolled through his datapad looking for any more useful information. "I'm not sure. The databanks aren't exactly helping, but I'm not surprised. Of course they'd wipe it clean of anything even remotely related to the case. Blast."

Jesse put his hand on his chin in thought. "Didn't you say Fives mentioned something about inhibitor chips? That there was one in every clone?"

Kix looked up from the datapad, making eye contact with Jesse and raised an eyebrow at him. "What about it?"

"Well, is there any info on that?" Jesse asked as he leaned back on his arms on his own bunk.

Kix shook his head. "I've checked, nothing. Either they erased every little trace of it or it's encrypted. Either way, that proves that they're hiding something." He sighed as he set the datapad down beside him, mimicking Jesse's movements.

"Well then...what now?" Jesse let himself flop onto the bunk.

Kix was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, he shot back up. "Fives said that every clone had one of these chips in their brains, right?" he looked down at Jesse. There was a twinkle in his eyes. Jesse knew that look, and he didn't like where this was going.

"...yeah?" he raised a wary eyebrow at Kix.

"And I'm the Chief Medic of this legion," he continued. Now Jesse was just confused.

"Alright, Kix. Get to the point," he sat back up and crossed his arms, staring up at Kix.

Kix sighed. "What I'm saying is, as Chief Medic, I have access to all the medical supplies on this ship, and military-grade medical supplies are one of the best-"

"Kix-"

"-and that means I could get the chip out and study it myself. No need for breaking through encrypted information. That might alert someone of what we're doing anyway," Kix was beaming by now as if he had just come up with the most genius plan ever. Jesse however, was not as enthusiastic.

"Kix, are you even listening to yourself? This is risky as hell. If we get caught, we'd be killed for sure. We may know that removing this chip doesn't actually make us go crazy, but the Jedi don't. And I doubt they'd believe a couple of clones. They'll think we're sick, just like how they thought Fives was sick," Jesse wanted to help his brother, he really did. But part of the reason he even agreed in the first place was to look out for him, keep him safe. This was a dangerous game they were playing at and they needed to be careful. One wrong move and it'll all come crashing down. Shit, they've barely even begun.

"Jesse, please. Just hear me out," Kix sounded desperate. "I'm Chief Medic, no one will question me if I keep the medbay off limits for just a couple hours at most. Besides, this is the perfect time to do this. The medbay's practically empty at the moment, and we're just sitting idly in space literally doing nothing. We might not get another chance like this. Please, Jesse."

Jesse sighed, still worried, but relented nonetheless. "Well then, who's the unlucky bastard that gets to have brain surgery today?"

Kix smirked at him and Jesse probably - scratch that, definitely pissed himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ad'ika - little one


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex and Appo's first time to Tatooine and it seems they take after their General's hate for sand...and other things.
> 
> No warnings for this chapter.

Rex was lying awake in his commander's quarters. There were a few other bunks in the room to accommodate other commanding officers from other units that joined them onboard, but for now, they were empty. The privacy was nice, it was something most troopers didn't have the luxury of. And yet, it could get lonely. It was quiet- too quiet. The low hum of the ship's engines was the only noise that filled his ears. In the trooper barracks, he'd hear the soft snores of the men, hear them shifting in their bunks as they tried to get as comfortable as they could on the rough material.

He sighed. This was just another one of his many sleepless night cycles on The Resolute. Normally, he'd go wandering the empty corridors of the star destroyer, with only the echo of his boots against the durasteel, accompanied by the low hum of the engines. It was almost therapeutic to him, in a sense.

Rex was tired, but he was also afraid. Afraid that if he closed his eyes all he'd see were Fives' dead ones staring back at him.

The mission. The nightmares.

Nightmares. Rex had nightmares. All the clones did, but recently they've been getting worse. More frequent, more...aggressive.

He's tried not to dwell on them, but eventually, they've started to take a toll on him. It's ironic really, that throughout all his years of fighting in this war, it was his own nightmares that finally got to him- finally managed to crack his perfect soldier facade, chip away at it until he'd soon be nothing more than an empty shell of what he used to be- who he used to be.

He chuckled to himself in the darkness of the room. Maybe Cut was right, maybe he did wonder what life would be like if he left the army. Though, he knew full well that it was a no go. He was a clone. Clones don't get to choose. Clones don't get happy endings.

He sighed again. His chest felt heavy. Being alone in silence with nothing but his thoughts wasn't as nice as he'd thought it'd be. He checked his chronometer.

0400

He'd need to be up soon, might as well try and get at least an hour of sleep.

* * *

There was a banging at his door. Rex forced his eyes open, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head as he did so. He really needed to get more sleep. He glanced over at his chronometer.

0430

At _least_ an hour of sleep, was that so much to ask? They didn't need to be up and ready until 0600 anyway, so who the hell was banging on his door and what did they want? The banging continued, the sounds of a curled up fist against durasteel echoing through the room.

Groggily, he hopped out of his bunk, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to seem more awake and aware. He pressed the button and the door slid open.

"Appo?" he wasn't expecting to see the Sergeant on the other side of the door.

"Sorry to wake you, sir. But General Skywalker has requested your presence at the bridge," Appo kept his voice steady, but there was a hint of breathiness to it. As if he ran across the entire ship to get here as fast as he could.

The bridge? At this time? What's he up to now?

"Did he specify why, exactly?" Rex asked, his annoyance clear in his voice.

Appo wavered slightly. "No, sir. He commed me telling me to come to get you, but that was about it," his words slurred slightly. Anyone else might not have noticed, but it didn't slip past the Captain. Huh, seems like Appo just woke up too.

"Any idea why he didn't just comm me himself?" Rex asked, crossing his arms.

"No, sir. But if you don't mind, he requested your presence immediately," Now Appo's own annoyance was leaking into his voice, mimicking Rex as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Alright, just let me get dressed and I'll be right there," he gave Appo a once over before walking back into his barracks and sliding the door shut.

Rex sighed to himself as he ran a hand over his face. He made his way over to the personal fresher in the barracks and splashed some water over his face. Appo had made it seem urgent, so he didn't think he'd have time to take a shower.

He splashed his face with ice-cold water a few more times just to make sure he was fully awake before wiping it off and putting his armour on over his blacks piece by piece. Once he was done, he stretched his arms before grabbing his helmet and tucking it under one.

As he slid the door back open, he was surprised to find Appo still standing there.

"About time, sir," He said, stepping out of the way to let Rex pass.

"Why are you still here? Don't you have some sleeping to do?" Rex asked as he stepped out of his barracks and pressed a button that slid the door back shut.

"General Skywalker wants me there as well, sir. Not sure what it's about exactly," Appo replied, he sounded tired, but he hid it well.

"Huh. Alright then."

* * *

"You wanted to see us, sir?" Rex asked as they made their way onto the bridge. It was quiet, only a few clone officers were on duty. It was their sleep cycle after all.

"Ah, Rex! About time. Sorry if I interrupted your beauty sleep," Skywalker teased, giving him half-hearted smirk. He turned toward the trooper beside him. "Sergeant," he said, giving him a respectful nod.

Appo returned the gesture. "General."

"No worries, General," Rex said, keeping his voice professional as if he didn't pick up on the teasing.

Skywalker's smile faltered slightly before he picked it back up. "Well, I'm sure you're both wondering why I called you all the way up here," he said as he stepped closer toward the holotable. He then activated a holomap.

Rex and Appo wordlessly stepped toward it as well, curious as to what the map showed.

"As you both know, we're currently just outside the Outer Rim," Skywalker began. "There's been a distress signal detected on Tatooine a few rotations ago, and it's been confirmed that it's coming from a Republic escape pod," he gestured his hands to zoom in on the hologram of Tatooine.

He glanced toward Rex and Appo, who looked up from the holomap and at him expectantly, urging him to continue.

"We're not exactly sure how the pod got there or which Star Destroyer it came from, and I've been given strict orders to keep my fleet right where it is, in case other fleets nearby need any assistance," he said as he folded his arms across his chest, smirking at the two.

Rex seemed to catch on to what he was getting at, but Appo was still confused as they shared a glance between each other, then back at their General.

"Now, I'm sure the fleet and the rest of the men will do just fine without us for a couple of rotations, right boys?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Appo seemed surprised, but Rex only shook his head and sighed. "Appo, comm Jesse. Tell him he's in charge while we're away."

"W-we?" Appo asked, bewildered.

"Yes, Sergeant. I want you on this mission too," Skywalker smirked at him.

"With all due respect General, what exactly is the mission? And didn't you just say you were given strict orders to stay where we are?"

Skywalker only chuckled. "We're going to check the distress signal out. And no, I was given strict orders to keep the fleet here. They never said anything about me and a couple of my men."

Appo stared at him silently. He can't be serious, written all over his face as he looked over to Rex, who only nodded. He held in a sigh and turned on his comlink.

"Appo to Jesse, come in," he let his sigh go free when there was no response from the other end.

"Jesse, come in. This is Appo," he tried again.

"Sarge?" Jesse's voice came from the other end.

"Listen up, you're in charge while Captain Rex and I accompany the General on a-" he cut himself off, unsure if he should tell Jesse or if this was supposed to be kept low. He glanced toward Skywalker who gave him a nod. "-a mission," he finished.

"Um, what mission, sir?"

Appo sighed again. Jesse always asks one too many questions. "Do I make myself clear, trooper?" he said, voice firm.

"Y-yes, sir. Good luck on your mission, sir," Jesse blurted out.

Appo then turned off his comlink and turned toward Skywalker once more.

Skywalker smiled. "Well then, what are we waiting for?"

* * *

The hangar was about as empty as they expected it to be, maybe even emptier. As they walked past all the different ships, Rex couldn't help but wonder which one they'd be taking.

"General, sir. If you don't mind me asking, which ship are we taking?" he asked.

Skywalker chuckled. "Well, my ship of course,"

"Um- your ship, sir?" Appo chimed in, confused, but also curious.

"That's right, Sergeant. Don't worry, I'd like to consider myself an exceptional pilot," Skywalker smirked to himself.

"As long as you don't crash the ship sir, I don't mind," Rex joked, earning a half-hearted laugh from him.

"Oh, you know me, Rex. I don't like making promises I can't keep."

As they made their way further into the hangar, Skywalker's infamous ship, The Twilight came into view.

Appo tried to hide the sharp inhale he took as he laid his eyes on the ship- if you could even call it that. It was a sad excuse for one if you asked him. Though, he knew he undoubtedly failed when he heard Rex snort.

"Oh come now, Appo. She's not as bad as she looks," Skywalker said in a teasing tone as he made his way toward the ship.

Rex and Appo followed not far behind him and Rex nudged him with his elbow. "I know it doesn't look like much, but the General's flown this ship through countless battles. Some while I was in it. And trust me, if anyone can make good use of a rickety bucket of bolts like this, it's General Skywalker."

"Well, Captain, as long as I don't die, I don't mind," he replied.

Rex chuckled. "Those are some awfully low standards, Sergeant."

As they walked up the ramp of the ship, Appo took his time to analyse the interior. It wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be if he was being honest. Though, the Republic had plenty of better ships accessible to the military. He couldn't help but wonder why Skywalker had chosen this one. Where the hell did he even get it? Appo decided not to ask.

Once they made it into the cockpit, they each took a seat and strapped themselves in. Skywalker at the main controls, and Rex beside him as a co-pilot. Appo decided to take a seat behind Skywalker. The controls seemed a bit old, but nothing of concern. The ship had some pretty decent firepower as well. Probably not enough if they were flanked, but it's still better than nothing.

The ramp closed behind them and soon they were lifting off. The ship rattled slightly when it passed through the magnetic shield, and Appo would be lying if he said he didn't almost piss himself. He did have full confidence in his General, of course. Just not his ship.

The rest of the flight was smooth enough. The comfortable silence shared between the three was broken when Skywalker spoke up. "You alright, Appo? I sense that you're a bit...anxious," he said as he glanced over his shoulder, looking away from the viewport and him.

Appo tensed, unsure of what to say. He swivelled his seat slightly so he didn't have to crane his neck to look at him. "Um, sorry, sir. I'm just- well, not quite familiar with missions that don't involve the whole legion. And if I'm being honest, I'm not entirely sure as to why you chose me to come with you."

Skywalker raised an eyebrow at him, causing Appo to break out into a cold sweat underneath his armour. "N-not that I don't want to be here, sir. It's just- I'm sure you and Captain Rex could handle this on your own, or at least someone more suited for this type of thing, l-like an ARC trooper," he stuttered out, afraid he offended his General. Skywalker was good, but all his men knew he could also have quite a temper.

His eyes lingered on Appo for a few more seconds before looking back to the viewport. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to get to know each other better, right Sergeant?" he chuckled. "Your skillset seems promising. You said you weren't familiar with this type of mission, so it's about time you are. Besides, a little experience wouldn't hurt anyone."

Appo was silent for a few seconds, which to him seemed to stretch out into long minutes. He wasn't expecting that. Finally, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Thank you, General."

* * *

The ship shuddered a little more violently as it entered Tatooine's atmosphere, causing everyone onboard to tense up, if only for a moment.

They landed in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Nothing but sand for as far as the eye could see. Rex put his helmet on, hoping his HUD would help him see anything his eyes might've missed and also to protect them from the sand blowing around them. He scanned the area but found nothing.

Appo and Skywalker walked out of the ship behind him. Appo had put on his own helmet by now. Skywalker, however, had no protection against the sand and hot suns. He attempted to shield his eyes with an arm, but it evidently didn't help much. "I hate sand," he murmured, squinting his eyes as the sunlight shone on him.

He walked up to where Rex and Appo were standing. They turned to look at him. "I don't see anything out here, sir," Rex said.

"Scanners aren't picking anything up either," Appo added.

Skywalker sighed. "Are you sure? The signal was last detected in this area. Check again."

"Yes, sir," both troopers replied in unison.

He turned away from them, taking a deep breath. Maybe he could find something their technology could not. He shut his eyes and focused, immersing himself in the Force. If there was anyone still alive from that pod, he'll be able to pinpoint their Force signature, which will hopefully lead to them.

Nothing.

He tried harder, furrowing his brows and squeezing his eyes further shut. They can't all be dead, the signal was detected just recently. Still nothing. His shoulders slumped as he groaned in frustration before opening his eyes. They were either dead or had wandered further away from the pod. Perhaps toward more populated areas. He could only hope it was the latter.

"General, we've got something!" Rex called.

He walked over to them and looked at the scanner in his hands. "What is it, Rex?"

"There seems to be some kind of ship- or pod- further down that way," he pointed ahead of him.

Skywalker's gaze followed his finger. "Uh, I don't see anything, Rex."

Rex and Appo shared a look before turning to him.

"That's because it's underground, sir."

* * *

Once they reached the area Rex had pointed out, Skywalker put his hands on his hips and huffed. "I assume we're standing right above it now, Rex?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Rex replied, double-checking the scanner once more before handing it over to Appo, who shoved it into his backpack.

The three of them looked down at the same time.

"I wonder how it got buried," Appo wondered aloud. Rex had thought the same thing, so had Skywalker- but he had his suspicions, and he was praying that they weren't true.

"Quicksand?" Rex suggested, but Appo shook his head.

"If that were the case, we'd be sinking right now," he said.

Skywalker's suspicions were becoming more and more plausible, and he was getting nervous. Though not Force-sensitive, both Rex and Appo turned to him, sensing his unease. The look of worry on his face must've been apparent.

"Everything alright, sir?" Rex asked.

Skywalker looked at him, frowning. "I think I know what happened to it, but if I'm right, we need to get out of here- now."

Just then, the ground started rumbling and shifting around them- a faint roar was heard in the distance, but it was progressively getting louder. The three of them shot out their arms in an attempt to regain their balance.

"Woah-!" Appo exclaimed as he almost fell over.

"S-sir?" Rex looked at him frantically.

"Run!"

They tried their best to do so with the ground letting out beneath them. It only seemed to in one specific spot, though. And it seemed to be moving-

"Split up!" Skywalker yelled as he ignited his lightsaber. "Get to more stable ground! We'll regroup at the ship!"

Seeing his General pull out his weapon, Rex followed suit with his DC-17's and Appo with his DC-15. They had no idea what they were up against, but Skywalker seemed to. They didn't fire, though. They'd only do so if absolutely necessary. No need to attract any unwanted attention.

Skywalker banked left while Rex and Appo went right, all distancing themselves from the moving ground. The roar came again- much louder this time. A giant creature then emerged from the sand, it's mouth wide- showing off rows of razor-sharp teeth. Even through the air filters in their helmets, the foul smell emitting from its mouth was evident in the air.

They started running even faster. "What the hell is that?!" Appo yelled over the roar.

"Less talking, more running! Unless you wanna stick around and find out!" Rex yelled back.

If they survived this, he'd have a word with his General for not telling them about that thing sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stanky breath


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More problems for the boys :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't fine Hardcase's CT number for the life of me so i made one up (CT-6021) bare with me :(
> 
> Warnings: breakdowns, mentions of death/dying/getting killed

"Is it too late to change my mind?" Jesse laughed nervously. He lay on an operating table as he watched Kix scramble through the medbay, getting all the equipment ready.

"Yup," he said simply, not even sparing a glance at his nervous sweat-soaked friend. He locked the doors to the medbay and made his way over to Jesse. A med droid stood by the table, awaiting orders. Jesse glanced at the droid, then at him, confused.

"The droid will do most of the work, I'm just sticking around to make sure nothing goes wrong," Kix explained.

Jesse crossed his arms. "Well if that's the case, why can't you be the one that gets your chip removed?"

"Because Jesse," Kix sighed as he leaned on a nearby medical bed, "I don't exactly trust you to know whats going on in here. You don't want me to die on you now, do you?"

Jesse sighed as he rested his arms beside him. "Alright, fair point."

"Besides, you need to get your head shaved for this procedure. Since you're already bald, that shouldn't be a problem. I can't ruin my beautiful haircut," Kix joked as he ran his hand over his hair, feeling all the different designs shaved into it.

"Whatever, Kix," he rolled his eyes as he scoffed. "I'm still not sure how comfortable I am with getting my head cut open by a droid, though."

"Don't worry Jesse, I'll be here the whole time. I'll make sure nothing goes wrong," Kix swapped his playful tone for a more genuine one.

Jesse swallowed before nodding, giving Kix a half-hearted smirk.

"Alright. See you in a bit, ad'ika," he said as Kix administered the anaesthesia. Jesse was unconscious in a few moments, his breaths shallow and steady. Kix rolled his eyes at the nickname. It better not stick, he thought.

"Alright," he turned to the droid. He reviewed the steps Fives had followed on his datapad. He had only managed to acquire that, but it was better than nothing. "Give him a Level 5 atomic brain scan."

"Very well," the droid nodded as it got to work. Its voice was unsettlingly human-like.

Kix held his breath as he watched. This better work.

The droid completed the scan. "The scan has detected a tumour in his brain," it stated.

Kix hummed, relieved. So Fives was right. It made him wonder what else he was right about. "Remove it," he told the droid. It nodded again and attached a device to the base of Jesse's skull.

He cringed as it began to drill through, but Jesse seemed to be unaffected. Just then, Jesse's comlink went off. Kix cursed under his breath. General Skywalker, Rex and Appo had all gone on some sort of mission, leaving Jesse in charge.

"Jesse? This is Wilder. Come in, please."

Kix glanced at Jesse, who was still unconscious. He sighed as he answered the comm.

"Yes, Wilder?" he tried his best to mimic Jesse's slightly gruffer voice. He held his breath, hoping he couldn't tell the difference.

It was silent on the other end for a moment and Kix broke into a cold sweat.

"I was hoping you could help me with some details regarding the campaign on Umbara," he said. Kix breathed out slowly. It worked. But why would he want to know about that godforsaken campaign? It was ages ago.

"Umbara? Why?" he asked, a little too agitated. Just uttering its name sent shivers down his spine. All those men...

He snapped out of it as Wilder spoke again. "I understand that it was a while ago, but High Command has requested a report on the rogue actions of ARC-5555, CT-6021 and CT-5597...well- you."

Kix gulped down hard. High Command? Rogue actions? "Did they specify why, exactly? Why now, after all this time?" he tried to keep his voice steady, but he was growing more and more anxious by the second.

"Well, no. I didn't think it was my place to ask, but Dragg seems to think it has something to do with Fives' uh..." he hesitated for a moment. "...malfunction."

Kix stayed silent. Wilder took that as a queue to continue. "He says that they're investigating troopers who have rebelled against superior officers before. Apparently, they seem to think that it's an early warning sign, that they'll end up like Fives soon enough."

"When is this report needed?" Kix asked, clutching his trembling fists. How fucking dare they.

"As soon as possible," Wilder replied.

Kix sighed. "Alright, I'll get back to you on that as soon as I can," he said. He shut off the comlink before Wilder could respond. Their own investigation was about to get a lot harder.

He looked at Jesse on the operating table. The procedure was complete, but he was still unconscious.

"He will wake up in a few moments," the droid said as it made its way over to him. "Here is the tumour."

It was encased in some sort of transparisteel casing. Kix took it from the droid carefully. He raised it against the light to get a better look and his eyes widened in shock. "It's organic," he murmured to himself.

"Nngh- what is?"

Kix turned back toward Jesse who was now sitting up- or attempting to, clutching his head with one hand and supporting his weight with the other. He shoved the chip into a pouch on his utility belt before walking over to him.

"You alright?" he asked, putting a hand on his back to help him sit up more.

"Yeah, I think so," he said as he gently grazed his fingers over the bandage the droid had placed over the surgical wound. "My head feels kinda fuzzy but other than that I'm fine."

"Fine enough for some news?" Kix sighed.

Jesse's face fell. "Oh no. Good or bad?"

Kix sighed again. "Take a guess," he grunted as he went to retrieve Jesse's comlink and passed it back to him.

"Wilder called while you were out. He was asking for details about Umbara," he began as he sat on a bed across from Jesse.

Jesse's brows furrowed as he stared down at his comlink in his hands before looking up to meet Kix's gaze, but said nothing.

"High Command has requested a report on the 'rogue actions' of ARC-5555, CT-6021, and CT-5597," Kix recited, not bothering to hide the anger in his tone.

Jesse's frown deepened, mixed with a look of confusion. "Wh-what? Why-"

Kix cut him off before he could go on. "They didn't specify, but Dragg thinks it has to do with what happened with Fives. They think it was a malfunction in his genetic code, and they think that any clone who has rebelled against superior officers is suspected of the same malfunction."

He was gritting his teeth by now. He clutched the mattress of the bed harder. "Hardcase is dead, so they don't have to worry about him. But you..."

Jesse laughed - a breathy, nervous huff of air as he shook his head, staring at the ground. He looked back up at Kix, who's eyes widened when he saw his face. Jesse's lower lip trembled, tears brimming in his eyes. He smiled at Kix, but it was anything but happy.

His voice came out barely above a whisper. "They're gonna kill me, aren't they?"

Kix hopped off the bed and rushed over to Jesse's side. "What? N-no. No, they're not going to kill you."

"As soon as they get their hands on me, they'll find out I removed my chip. They'll kill me," silent tears began streaming down his face.

"Jesse..." Kix grabbed his shoulders, turning them to face him "Jesse, look at me. They're not going to kill you, Wilder said they were just asking for details, remember?"

Jesse sniffled. "That's just the start and you know it."

"Jesse-"

"It-it's not that I'm afraid to die. I- that's what we were made for after all. I just- I never thought I'd go out this way. First, the firing squad on Umbara, now this! I know I was born to die, dammit! But at least let me go out on the battlefield like the soldier I am!" his breath hitched, the steady flow of tears didn't seem to slow.

"Jesse!" Kix raised his voice, snapping him out of his rambling. "You're not going to die. No one's going to hurt you. General Skywalker would never allow that to happen."

He kept his grip firm on Jesse's shoulders. But was it to comfort his brother or himself? He wished he could fully believe what he was saying. Perhaps the firm hold was to remind himself that Jesse was still here, that he was still alive. He gripped harder as if Jesse would disappear from his grasp any second. Kix felt his own eyes begin to water at the thought, but he blinked the tears away. He needed to be here for Jesse now, and he couldn't do that if he was bawling like a cadet on Kamino.

Jesse's body shuddered as he exhaled slowly. His voice cracked. "General Skywalker can only do so much."

* * *

Once Jesse had calmed down, the pair made their way back to the barracks to meet up with Wilder and Dragg about the report. As they entered, the atmosphere felt a little offputting, but they brushed it off as nothing. The rest of the men were gathered on the other side of the barracks playing some sort of game together - far enough not to eavesdrop on whatever conversation they were about to have, Kix thought. Wilder sat hunched over at a desk right beside the door and Dragg was sitting behind him on his bunk.

Wilder kept his hair longer than most, but he always kept it neat-looking whenever he had the chance. Dragg on the other hand had a rare gene mutation that gave him naturally silver hair, but he was insecure about it, so he dyed it black. His hair was growing out though, and the silver was starting to peek through under the black. He, unlike Wilder, didn't seem to care about keeping it tidy, and from the looks of it, he didn't seem to bother dying it back either. It was a good look on him, though.

The two looked up from whatever they were doing and at them.

"Jesse! About time. Oh, hey Kix," Wilder smiled at them, but there was a hint of unease behind it. Kix wordlessly returned the smile.

"Sorry, Wilder. Got caught up in somethings," Jesse rubbed the back of his neck apologetically.

Wilder was about to reply, probably tell him it was no problem, but he was cut off when Dragg spoke up.

"What things?" he asked, glaring at him as he rested one leg atop the other.

Kix turned toward Jesse, eyebrows raised, then toward Dragg. Someone wasn't too happy to see them, it seemed. Jesse shifted his weight from one leg to another as he crossed his arms, gladly returning the glare.

"None of your business, Lieutenant." Dragg outranked him, but he wasn't part of his division, so technically, he had no power over him. Dragg steadily held the glare in silence for a little longer than Jesse was comfortable with, but he wasn't about to let it show.

He finally broke it by rolling his eyes. He sighed as he got up from his seated position, making his way over to Jesse. He put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him in close, whispering something only he could hear, "This is a dangerous game you're playing, Jesse. I'd watch my back if I were you." And with that, he left the barracks. The three pairs of eyes followed him until the door slid shut behind him. With the aggressive nature in which he pressed the button, Kix felt that he would've slammed it if he could.

"Right...sorry about him. Ran out of caf this morning, he's probably just grumpy," Wilder chuckled in apology.

Both Jesse and Kix laughed nervously. "Ah, don't worry about it," Kix said dismissively.

He seemed at ease with Dragg's absence as he made his way over to Wilder to look at how the report was going so far, but Jesse only felt even more unnerved than he did before. He swallowed down the lump of anxiety rising in his throat. Dragg was a smart man. If he didn't already know - which it seemed like he did - he'd find out soon enough.

He sighed. Let's just get this report over with.

* * *

The next day cycle, Dragg seemed to ignore the two whenever they crossed paths, which wasn't too often, but there was an evident tension in the air whenever they did. There wasn't much going on at the moment, if anything at all, and Jesse was grateful for that because the General hasn't returned with Rex and Appo yet. He didn't think he could handle commanding the entire legion on his own while they were gone.

In the mess hall, Jesse sat with Kix, Vaughn and Loophole. Kix beside him and the other two across from them. The more he stared at the food on his tray, the more he began to lose his appetite. The food had always been bland, but right now it seemed to be even blander - if that was even possible. He rested his cheek on the back of his hand as he lazily poked at it with his fork.

"Not hungry?" Vaughn asked, eyeing Jesse as he took a sip of water.

"Not really," he mumbled, not bothering to look up from his tray.

"Tch- what's got you down in the dumps?" Loophole snickered across from him, munching on a ration bar. He had a standard regulation crew cut, but the sides and back were shaved and gradually faded further down.

Jesse looked up then, glaring at him. "Nothing that concerns you, Loopy," he grumbled.

"Hey!" Loophole clutched his chest, a fake-hurt expression painted across his face. "I thought we agreed to never call me that again!"

"Whatever, Loopy."

"Okay, now you're just being mean!"

Kix and Vaughn both shook their heads as they watched their childish exchange. Loophole still had his ration bar in his hand, taking bites every now and then between sentences. Kix couldn't help the amused smirk that made its way onto his face.

He glanced at Vaughn, who returned the look. "How do you put up with him all the time?" Kix joked.

Vaughn shook his head and chuckled. "You get used to it," he paused, face scrunching up. "Eventually."

Kix was about to respond when he caught a glimpse of that unmistakeable silver hair. Dragg. He visibly tensed up, and Vaughn seemed to take notice. The other two were still going at it, but they had tuned them out by now.

"You alright?" he asked, trying to follow Kix's gaze to see what was unnerving him. He raised an eyebrow when his eyes landed Dragg - who didn't look too happy...and was getting closer. Oh- he was coming this way.

Kix smacked Jesse on the shoulder as a means to shut him up as Dragg approached their table.

"Room for one more?" he didn't wait for a reply as he sat himself down beside Vaughn, squeezing in uncomfortably close. Vaughn didn't say anything as he shifted awkwardly, trying to put more space between them.

Loophole seemed to notice the tension in the air because he got up abruptly. "Uh- we'll leave you guys to it. Come on Vaughn."

Kix had never seen Vaughn look so relieved, not even after successfully unjamming his blaster in the middle of a firefight. He swallowed as he looked over to Jesse, who was already sending a steady glare toward Dragg.

Dragg scooched further into the bench so he was sitting directly in front of the two. Before either of them could say anything, his face softened and he sighed. He leaned in closer with his elbows on the table.

"Listen, I know you too are up to something," his eyes travelled to the bandage on Jesse's head. "And I also know it's anything but authorized. I know we may not get along well, but you're still my brothers, and I still have a duty to look out for you." He looked between the two in front of him, desperately hoping they'd drop whatever they were doing for their own sakes. He knew it wouldn't come to that, but a man could hope.

Jesse's lips formed into a thin line as he frowned in thought, but perked up when he heard Kix sigh beside him.

"I understand, Dragg. And I appreciate your concern, but this isn't something we can just walk away from. I don't care if you don't believe me, but the whole GAR is at stake," he said as he rested his folded arms on the table.

Dragg then looked over to Jesse, who only sighed and nodded in agreement with Kix. "There's a lot more to this than you know."

He lowered his arms then, shoulders slumping slightly as he furrowed his brows. "Then tell me," he said, earning a look of surprise from both Kix and Jesse. "If I can't talk you out of whatever it is you're doing, at least let me help. If the entire GAR is at stake as you say, I doubt two troopers could pull it off on their own."

The two stayed silent, unsure of how to respond.

"Please, I love my brothers. If there's something that's putting them at risk even more that this fucking war, I'll do anything to put an end to it - even if it gets me killed. If it means the rest of them get to live, I'll do it."

Jesse looked toward Kix as if asking him about this. The entire operation was his idea anyway. He should get to decide.

Kix only nodded once before extending his arm out to Dragg, who clasped it without missing a beat.

"So would we."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buddies! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescue mission!! But who are they rescuing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: vague mentions of slave torture, slavery, guilt

The three lay slumped in their seats, panting heavily as they caught their breath. They had managed to escape the beast - which Skywalker had revealed to be a krayt dragon - albeit narrowly. Skywalker chuckled as he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. Well, Rex assumed it was a chuckle, anyway, it came out as more of a huff. Still too out of breath, he guessed.

"Well, that was fun."

Appo scoffed in response. "You and I have very different ideas of fun, General."

Rex chuckled, glad to see Appo getting more comfortable despite the situation they were in. They were still on Tatooine, hovering around where they detected the wreckage, but unsure if it was safe to land.

"What now, sir?" Rex asked as he adjusted his posture so he was sitting more upright in his seat.

Skywalker hummed. "Well, I guess there's no use going back to the crash site. We don't have the equipment to dig it out."

"Do you think they were...inside when it sunk?" Appo gulped. If that were the case, he hoped whoever was inside was dead before it happened. Dying by suffocating with lungs full of sand might just be the most uncomfortable way to die, he thought - and he's seen plenty.

"We can only hope not," Skywalker grimaced as he tightened his grip on the controls.

Rex rubbed his chin in thought as he frowned. "I may not know much about this krayt dragon," he began. "But I doubt it showed up immediately after they crashed. Surely they would've had time to get out and get away safely, right?" He looked at Appo, then at the General.

"I hope you're right, Rex. But if you are, where do you think they went?" Skywalker asked.

"Well I would assume they went to the nearest populated area, wouldn't you, sir?" he raised an eyebrow.

Skywalker raised his own in response. "Well the nearest populated area would be..." he trailed off as he checked the navicomputer before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Jabba's Palace."

* * *

They landed not too far away from the entrance, but far enough that they were comfortable with. Jabba's Palace was always crawling with sketchy beings of all shapes and sizes and they weren't about to take any chances.

There were already a few of what they could only assume were Jabba's goons outside the palace. They all glared at them, attempting to intimidate them, but weren't very successful. As they made their way inside, there were even more of them as expected. They glared at them sceptically, hungrily almost, before going back about their business. Some gazes lingered longer than others, but they did their best to ignore them.

Rex and Appo skimmed through the crowd in hopes of spotting that familiar white armour or anything even remotely resembling The Republic, really. But no luck so far. They didn't even know who they were looking for exactly.

They trailed warily behind Skywalker as he made his way over to Jabba the Hutt himself. Rex did his best to hold back a wince at the foul smell that only grew stronger the closer they got. So far, this trip has taught him that their helmets didn't filter out as much as he thought they did. Appo, however, wasn't as successful at hiding his own wince when Jabba's voice boomed through the room.

"You are Republic! Who are you, and why have you come?" the translator droid was about to translate the Huttese before Skywalker spoke up.

"I'm Anakin Skywalker. We mean no harm, oh Great Jabba. We're here looking for-" he gestured toward Rex and Appo. "-people that look like them."

Appo nudged Rex. "The General speaks slug?" he whispered.

"It's Huttese, wiseass," he grumbled in response, trying not to look at the green Twi'lek woman kneeling in chains that Jabba was holding. It made him uncomfortable - seeing someone so helpless and not being able to do anything about it, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Jabba made a noise - that could only be described as a groan - in response. "There have been no clones here."

Skywalker frowned at the way repulsive way Jabba uttered the word 'clone'. "Anyone carrying one of these, perhaps?" he pulled out his lightsaber and ignited it, earning surprised gasps and whispers from some of the other residents of Jabba's Palace.

Jabba grunted as he instinctively moved back in shock. Or was it disgust? "Get that thing out of my face!" he boomed. Yeah, definitely disgust. "There are no clones or Jedi here. Leave!" As he said so, some of his bounty hunters began cocking their weapons, stalking threateningly toward them.

Skywalker frowned as he held his lightsaber at the ready and Rex and Appo followed suit with their blasters. They backed away toward each other, pointing their weapons around threateningly. "Do not engage," Skywalker whispered. "This is Huttspace, we can't ruin The Republic's relations with them." They both said nothing, only nodding in response.

A Trandoshan who was uncomfortably close pulled out a rotary blaster cannon and proceeded to point it at them. "You best leave before things get a little..." he licked his lips. "ugly."

They were about to comply, uninterested in causing any more trouble. That was until Rex caught a glimpse of a man - a clone - being dragged into the back in chains. The yellow tattoos on his cheeks were unmistakable. "General, look!" Rex jerked his head in his direction. "It's Bly!"

Skywalker grinned. They couldn't do anything before, but if Jabba the Slug was holding one of their own hostage, nothing was stopping them now. He leapt into action without another word, cutting down bounty hunters left and right. He knew he didn't have to give orders to the other two, they'd follow his lead.

Soon, the remaining bounty hunters were backing away. They knew they were no match for a Jedi. The clones, maybe, but they weren't taking any more chances. Skywalker leapt through the crowd and landed right in front of Jabba, pointing his lightsaber dangerously close to his neck - or what would've been his neck.

"Rex, Appo. Go get Bly. See if there was anyone else that arrived with him. I doubt he came here alone," Skywalker ordered, not once taking his eyes off of Jabba. He inched the tip of his lightsaber even closer. "I'll deal with this slug."

* * *

Rex led Appo down the dark hallway where he saw Bly get dragged away. They both flicked on their built-in flashlights and trekked through it as quietly as possible. Blasters at the ready, they pointed them at any little sound they heard. Perhaps they were a little too jumpy, but who could blame them? They just outran a krayt dragon and got out of a shootout.

There was a shuffling noise in the darkness and even with their lights, they couldn't quite make out what it was. They both pointed their blasters toward the noise as they carefully inched closer, light on their feet in case things took a turn for the worse, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme on this wretched planet. The noise seemed to become more frantic before stopping abruptly. The sudden ear-ringing silence that befell them made them tense up even more.

Once they got close enough, a little scurrier scurried away from them in fear. They both let the tension in their shoulders melt away, relieved. They didn't let their guard down, though. They still haven't found Bly.

They crept around another corner, peeking from behind the wall to make sure there were no hostiles before emerging fully and continuing their light-toed dance through the dark. He had to be here somewhere. Perhaps a holding cell. There seemed to be no other life forms in the area after a quick scan with their HUDs.

"Strange," Appo muttered lowly, mostly to himself. Rex didn't respond.

Instead, he smacked a hand against his bucket a couple of times. Maybe the sand had gotten all up in its circuits and was causing the HUD scanners to malfunction. Appo turned to him and tilted his head to the side to make up for the questionable look that was hidden underneath his helmet. Rex ignored him and kept going at it. Sure enough, a generous amount of sand fell out and his HUD began to fizz out before coming back to life, now showing two other life forms present.

"Try it," he nodded at Appo. "The sand is messing with the scanners. I'm picking up two life forms here with us now."

Appo decided to take a different approach. Instead, he took off his helmet and shook it until an equally generous amount of sand fell out. He smirked at Rex. "No need to bash my brains in, eh?" Rex only rolled his head in response since Appo couldn't see him roll his eyes. As Appo secured his helmet back onto his shoulders, his head jerked back in surprise.

"What?" Rex asked. That couldn't be good. He hoped that it was just a bit of sand that got into his eye or something, but today hadn't exactly been their lucky day.

"Scanner's picking up four life forms now," he murmured, keeping his voice low. He readjusted his grip on his blaster.

Rex tapped at his helmet again and his eyes widened. Though Appo couldn't see them, he could see the way Rex tensed up. "What is it?"

"Six, now," Rex grunted. They could pull this off, they were skilled enough. But it wasn't going to be easy.

"You're right," Appo mumbled. They both gripped their blasters tighter in their hands.

They had to be careful. They hadn't the slightest clue as to who or what they were up against. They couldn't go in guns blazing either, even though they had the element of surprise - one of those life forms could be Bly, and they didn't want to risk shooting him in the crossfire.

They treaded as silently and as quickly as possible, careful not to make any noise to tip-off whoever it was that showed up on their scanners. The scans seemed to show that all six of them were in the same spot - or room. There was a faint light emitting from a doorway on the left side of the hallway. Rex and Appo stopped just beside it. They looked to each other and nodded before barging in, blasters raised and ready.

"Hands where we can see them!" Rex demanded. Each of his DC-17s were pointed at their respective targets. Appo was shifting his aim from person to person, finger ready on the trigger. They noticed Bly in the corner of the room, bound and unconscious, but they had to deal with everyone else before they could even think about getting him out of here.

"Wait! Don't shoot!" one of them exclaimed. She was a purple-skinned Theelin with frizzy red hair. She looked terrified, but Rex wasn't taking any chances.

He tightened his grip on the blaster he had pointed towards her. "I said hands up," he growled. She whimpered as she raised her trembling arms above her head.

"P-please," another one spoke, this time a pink-skinned Twi'lek. Appo pointed his blaster toward her, making her flinch, but she continued to speak. "W-we're slaves. Please, help us." Appo lowered his blaster slightly as he turned to Rex, who only shook his head. Take no chances.

"Why aren't the rest of you chained up like him then?" Rex jerked his head toward the still unconscious Bly.

"Because we've been here for so long. We've been trained. They expect us not to try anything, and they're right." the Theelin woman said sadly. The hopelessness in her voice made Rex's heart clench, but he remained standing firm. He's been to Kadavo, he's even experienced what those slaver scum do to train slaves, but he knows he's only gotten a taste of what they've gone through.

"Is-is he your friend?" the Twi'lek asked, referring to Bly.

"Yes, he is," Rex replied warily. He still wasn't sure he could trust them.

"Well, he was very kind to us before he lost consciousness. If you're anything like him, I'm sure you'll help us, won't you?"

Rex hesitated as he swallowed down the lump in his throat. He would if he had a choice, but they were here for Bly. Retaliating after they took one of their own is one thing, but freeing their slaves? That was just asking for more trouble.

"I'm sorry," Rex began as he slowly lowered his blasters and Appo hesitantly followed suit. "but we're here for him. If it were up to me, I'd help you, I really would. But it's not. I'm sorry." He had no idea why his chest felt so heavy. He'd just met these women, after all. They shouldn't have had this much of an impact on him already. At the sight of the dejected looks on all their faces, his mind wandered back to Slick - to what he said.

It's the Jedi who keep my brothers enslaved!

He felt like he was about to throw up. His mind was spinning between doing what's right and doing his duty. He wanted so badly to do what was right, to help these women see the freedom that was so cruelly ripped away from them. Hell, he almost did, but the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the halls snapped him out of it.

The two of them whipped around, blasters raised and aimed toward the doorway. They stepped closer, putting themselves between the women and whoever was coming their way, only to lower them in surprise when Skywalker came into view.

"General!" Rex exclaimed.

Skywalker panted. "What are you doing? Get Bly so we can get out of here!"

"B-but sir, the slaves-"

"What about them?!" Skywalker snapped.

Rex was silent for a beat, taken aback by his aggressiveness. He quickly regained his composure, though. "We can't just leave them here, sir."

Skywalker sighed. "Rex, there's nothing we can do for them."

"But-"

"That's final," Skywalker cut him off before he could argue.

Rex let his shoulders slump before nodding. "Yes, sir." He then made his way over to Bly, who seemed to be regaining consciousness. "Appo, help me out."

Appo wordlessly complied, not daring to say anything. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a lightsaber.

They shot out Bly's shackles before hauling him up. One arm over each of their shoulders and they each braced an arm under his legs. Rex sparred one last glance at the slaves in the room, though they couldn't see the apologetic look on his face. Perhaps that was for the best.

They went back the way they came with Skywalker taking the lead and lighting the way with the faint glow of his lightsaber.

"Nngh-" Bly's head lulled back as he groaned. "Wha- General Skywalker?" he mumbled as the first thing he saw was Skywalker's back. He then glanced down to see that he was being carried before looking up to see who exactly was carrying him. "Rex?"

"Yeah, it's me. We're getting you outta here," he tried to keep his voice steady, but the recent events still sat uncomfortably fresh in his mind.

"Who're you?" Bly asked as he turned to Appo. He only scoffed in response.

"There'll be a time for introductions later. Right now, we need to get out of here," Skywalker interrupted.

"W-wait," Bly said as he lowered his legs onto the ground.

"Bly what are you-"

"The General," he began, making Skywalker stop and turn to him. "I crashed here with General Secura."

He pushed himself away from Rex and Appo's grip and they reluctantly allowed him to do so, but their hands still hovered around him just to make sure he wouldn't fall. He grunted at the gesture.

"My legs aren't broken. I can walk," he grumbled.

"Bly, where's General Secura?" Skywalker asked. It was clear that his patience was wearing thin and Bly wasted no time in replying.

"They have her in a holding cell, but if she hasn't broken herself out by now, that must mean she's still out cold," he explained.

Skywalker sighed. "Where exactly is this holding cell?"

"Diva told me there was one somewhere down this winding hallway."

"Diva?" Rex chimed in, earning a glare from Skywalker.

"The Theelin woman. Her name is Diva."

"Oh," Rex said, barely audible. He was painfully aware of Skywalker's burning gaze and he felt sick in the pit of his stomach. Somehow knowing the woman's name made him feel even more guilty, but the General's word was final and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

They found where Secura was being held easily enough and two Gamorreans stood guard just outside it. Skywalker chuckled. This was too easy.

"Wait here in case anyone else shows up. I'll handle this," he said as he eagerly ignited his lightsaber.

The two guards squealed when they caught sight of him, but they just weren't fast enough. Gamorreans were brute warriors, sure, but their builds were in favour of raw strength rather than speed and agility, which was ultimately their downfall. Skywalker stood proudly over their singed bodies as he gave the all-clear for the other three to come in. He proceeded to press a button and the cell gates slowly began to rise.

Secura lay crumpled in the centre of the cell. All the commotion must've helped her come to because she was slowly pushing herself up off the revolting looking ground. She groaned as she clutched her head. "Skywalker?"

"General Secura, are you alright?" he asked as he crouched beside her. "Rex, Appo, stand guard. Bly, go find your and the General's weapons."

A chorus of 'yes, sirs' followed Skywalker's orders. He helped her sit up more, holding on so she wouldn't collapse.

"I'm fine, Skywalker. Where is Commander Bly?" she asked as she moved to stand.

Skywalker scrambled to stand with her, making sure she was stable enough. "He's here, don't worry." He knew she and her Commander were close. How close? He couldn't exactly say, but who was he to judge? Sure, Jedi weren't supposed to developed attachments, but he'd be a hypocrite to call her out on it.

The sound of footsteps approaching caused both Secura and Skywalker to whip their heads toward its source. There stood Bly, a proud grin on his face. He had his helmet in one hand and was holding Secura's lightsaber in the other. He had his blaster strapped to his back as well.

"Found your lightsaber, General," he said as he walked over to give it to her.

Secura smiled at her Commander. "Thank you, Bly."

Rex and Appo came into view from where they were standing guard. "Great! Now can we get off this goddamned planet?" Appo groaned, earning amused snickers from the others. It was informal, yes, but they could excuse it just this once.

"You can say that again," Rex agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like this chapter :((


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex is the mature big brother and Bly is the annoying big brother.  
> Rex is a tease? Since when :0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: vomit, yelling, self deprecation

"So tell me again what you and General Secura were doing alone on a ship together," Rex raised an eyebrow at Bly as they walked side by side down the corridors. They were now back aboard _The Resolute_ , on their way to the medbay to get Bly checked out.

"Diplomatic mission to Aleen," he grumbled as he clutched his most-likely bruised side. He'd already told Rex oh he didn't know - at least eight times by now.

Rex's eyebrow only made it's way even closer to his hairline. "Aleen is all the way in the Mid Rim. How the hell did you manage to crash land on Tatooine?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice, which Bly begrudgingly took notice of.

He let out a sigh, which came out as more of a growl. He's tired and his nerves were wearing thin, much to Rex's amusement. "Mission went fine, left the planet, Seppie droid ship tailed us, got hit, jumped to hyperspace, ended up in the Outer Rim, the ship sustained too much damage to be salvageable, got in the escape pod, landed on Tatooine," he grumbled out the whole story in a speedrun. The blood vessels in his temple were throbbing, from exhaustion or irritation? Might as well be both. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of that smug smirk plastered across the blonde di'kut's face and it wasn't helping.

"Alright alright," Rex snickered, finally deciding to let his brother catch a break. They had already arrived at the medbay, anyway. "Kix'll have you checked out, make sure you're not too seriously injured, nothing broken. Though, you seem to be walking just fine."

Bly only nodded in response. He was uninterested in wasting any more breath with Rex at the moment.

"Or were you only pulling through cause you didn't want me to carry you again?" As the smugness returned to Rex's voice, he was rewarded with a punch to the shoulder - which was well earned, in Bly's opinion.

"Just shut up," he grumbled. Rex chuckled but relented, letting Bly have his peace. He pressed the button to the medbay door and it slid open only to reveal a very frustrated looking Kix. He was pacing back and forth through the medbay, a datapad clutched in one hand as he tapped it to his temple, mumbling to himself low enough that neither Rex nor Bly could make out what he was saying. He didn't seem to notice the presence of the Captain or the Commander.

"Kix?" he called out warily. Maybe this was a bad time, but then again, Bly needed medical attention as soon as possible. Kix startled at the sound of his voice, a little too jumpy for his liking, but he said nothing. 

"Captain! You're back!" Kix said. His voice was laced with forced enthusiasm, though it was very well hidden. Rex has known Kix for quite some time now, and he could hear the undertone of _scared_ in his voice, but why?

"Commander Bly has sustained some injuries. Take care of him, will you?" he said, deciding against questioning Kix about it. Kix nodded fervently at his orders and as Bly made his way over to him, got to work without another word. Rex lingered by the doorway for a few moments longer, just observing his Chief Medic. Something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Not yet, at least - he thought as he slid the door closed, leaving them be.

He planned on going straight back to his barracks, but now he had something else in mind. Where he would normally go right, he took a left instead, toward the trooper barracks.

* * *

Most of the men sat in a circle on the floor in the middle of the room with the exception of some propping themselves up onto crates. Others were laying in their bunks, trying and ultimately failing to get some sleep. After all, a game of sabacc was _never_ quiet.

A groan of frustration echoed through the room, followed by the sound of cards being thrown aggressively onto the ground.

"Hah! That's it, Butcher! Bomb-out!"

Butcher hid his face in his forearms as he clutched his hair in frustration. "Goddammit..." he grumbled.

"Aw, cheer up Butch. Look on the bright side, at least you're making the rest of us rich," Jesse laughed.

A snort sounded from another trooper. "Yeah, rich with ration bars," Ricochet murmured as he bit aggressively into one. The statement earned a few chuckles from the other troopers - which stopped abruptly at the sound of the door sliding open.

"Captain on-"

Rex raised his hand before the trooper could finish. "No need for that. We're off duty, anyway." He took a seat on one of the unoccupied crates and sighed contently as he was finally able to rest his legs.

The other troopers shifted uncomfortably. Rex's presence was evidently causing a shift in their mood and the atmosphere felt a little heavy. He felt his heart clench ever so slightly. He may be their CO, but at the end of the day, he was still their brother, no matter the rank. He understood their reaction, though. The awkward silence dragged on for what felt like forever before someone cleared their throat. It was Jesse.

"Glad you made it back safe, Captain," he smiled as he leaned back on his arms. The movement caused his cards to be displayed openly to the rest of the men. Rex returned the smile genuinely but also amused as he watched Jesse scramble to hide them again, though it seemed that it was too late for that.

"Back off, Butcher! You didn't see shit!" Jesse growled, clutching his cards - careful to make sure they're face down this time - close to his chest. "You're not even in the game anymore!"

"Yeah, but Loophole is! You saw his cards, right?" Butcher asked as he looked to the trooper beside him.

Loophole cracked his signature lopsided grin. He turned to Jesse and wiggled his eyebrows at him. "I dunno. Maybe."

Jesse rolled his eyes in response, along with his neck for good measure. "Whatever, I'm out." He placed his cards down and got up. The other men groaned in complaint but went on playing soon enough. Jesse made his way over to Rex and sat beside him.

"Game night, eh?" Rex smirked at him half-heartedly.

"Heh, nothing much else to do in space, Rex," he replied with a chuckle. "How was the mission?"

Rex shrugged. "Wasn't the most intense mission I've been on-" he grimaced as he recounted some of the recent events. "except for the krayt dragon."

"Krayt dragon?" Jesse looked at him, intrigued. Jesse wasn't younger than him by much, but he still had that youthful sparkle in his eyes, something Rex had lost a long time ago, something he had learned to cherish. At the sight of his younger brother's eyes, he could hardly resist a smile.

Jesse raised an eyebrow at the gesture but other than that, he didn't say anything.

"Well..." Rex began as he furrowed his brows in thought. "Hey, boys! Wanna hear a story?" He called to the rest of the men. They gave each other confused, wary looks, but gathered around him eventually.

Sure, maybe this was weird. They weren't exactly cadets anymore, but regardless, they were still kids at heart. Rex did nothing to hold back his smile now as he began telling them the story of the krayt dragon. He relished this moment - allowed himself to live in it free of worry, if only for a little while. They all had that same sparkle - just like he and the rest of his batch had when Alpha-17 and the other older vod'e would tell them stories just like this back on Kamino - and he dreaded the day he'd see it die out from their eyes.

* * *

"Thank you, Skywalker," Aayla said as they made their way onto the bridge, overlooking the stars.

Anakin raised an eyebrow and smirked. "For rescuing you?"

"Yes, and for letting B- Commander Bly and I stay on your ship for the time being," she flushed a darker shade of blue at the little slip-up, but it was gone as soon as it came that anyone would've missed it, but not Anakin. He didn't mention it, however, much to Aayla's appreciation.

"Of course," Anakin replied. He kept his gaze steady and unyielding on the viewport before them, grazing through the stars and the ever stretching darkness of space. Beside him, Aayla seemed to be doing the same. The two stood beside each other in comfortable silence, absorbing this moment of peace that they were so privileged to have in a time of war and suffering. Only the faint beeps and whirs of the ship's mechanisms could be heard, along with the hum of its engine.

Was it his imagination, or were the beeps getting louder? And faster?

"I think you'll want to answer that," Aayla chuckled as she glanced down at Anakin's blinking comlink.

He let out a sigh. His peace was shortlived, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. "Excuse me," he muttered before exiting the bridge.

Once the blaster doors shut behind him, he answered it. "Skywalker."

 _"Anakin, where are you?"_ the voice on the other end asked.

"Obi-Wan? I'm stationed just outside the Outer Rim, why?" he raised an eyebrow that Obi-Wan couldn't see.

_"The Council has lost contact with Aayla Secura and her last known whereabouts were in the Mid Rim. Now I know it's quite far away but-"_

"Aayla? She's here on my ship."

_"What?"_

"I...may or may not have checked out the distress signal on Tatooine-"

 _"Anakin..."_ Obi-Wan said warningly.

"What? Turns out it was her and Commander Bly. I found them, you're welcome," he grumbled.

There was a tired sigh on the other end. _"Well, good news, I suppose. Good work, Anakin. I shall report this to The Council."_ As if Obi-Wan could hear the smug smirk he had on his face, he interrupted before Anakin could say anything. _"And please tell Master Secura to check in with The Council as soon as possible."_

"Will do, Master," he shut off his comlink before Obi-Wan could say anything more.

As he re-entered the bridge, Aayla turned to look at him expectantly, as if asking what the comm was about. Which would be weird because you don't usually ask those things, but maybe she overheard her name being mentioned once or twice during the comm.

"It was Obi-Wan," he began. "He was about to send me looking for you."

Aayla gave him an amused but questioning look. "Well, in that case, I'm assuming you and your men coming to rescue us was not authorized?"

Anakin only crossed his arms and smirked. "You know me. Oh and Obi-Wan requested you check in with The Council as soon as possible."

"Ah, yes, of course," she nodded before exiting the bridge, probably on her way to the spare barracks they had on board.

Anakin took one last glance at the star-filled sky before sighing and making his way to his own barracks.

* * *

"So, what's got your panties all up in a bunch?" Bly asked from where he was seated on a medbay bed with his arms holding up his weight behind him.

Kix stilled his movements at the question. "I beg your pardon, Commander?"

"Ah, no need to be so formal with me. We're off duty, call me Bly," he waved a hand of dismissal in front of his face.

"Um, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that, sir," Kix muttered as he lowered his gaze.

Bly frowned, but let it be. "Alright then, have it your way. Kix, right?" He hoped he could at least have some sort of conversation while he was here. He might not have been in the mood with Rex, but he's been holed up in here longer than he expected, and he was getting bored.

Kix nodded but said nothing.

"Not a talker, eh?" Bly mused, shifting his weight slightly as he tried to get more comfortable. Come to think of it, even with the painkillers Kix gave him, this position was beginning to really hurt-

"I would advise against straining your arms like that, sir. Your left arm has sustained a fractured ulna, and you have a broken rib," Kix's voice was stern now. He always took the health and safety of the men, be it his or others, very seriously.

Ah, broken. He tried to chuckle only to find that it hurt too much to do so, but Kix caught the attempt. "I thought it was just bruised," he grinned sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck with his right arm - he switched them out just in time for Kix to send him a sceptical glare.

"Would you like a bacta soak, or would you prefer bacta patches instead?" Kix asked.

Bly mulled it over for a second. A bacta soak would take a while but would heal the wounds faster, while bacta patches would take longer to heal but he'd be able to move around freely. _As freely as you could with two broken bones_ , he thought to himself. "I think I could use a good soak," he said finally.

Kix nodded once more before going to prepare the bacta tank.

Bly may not know Kix all that well, hell, they'd just met, but he could tell something's bothering him. And he doesn't like seeing his little brothers suffer in silence. It may not be his place to pry, but he can't really help himself at the moment, especially while he's somewhat high on painkillers. "What's wrong?"

Kix froze. A sheen of cold sweat formed over his skin but was mostly covered by his armour, which he was thankful for. He did his best to resist the urge to turn and face Bly. As much as he wanted to show him that he'll stand his ground and he'll stand firm, he knew the look in his eyes would betray him. Bly was a Marshal Commander for fuck's sake. You don't become a Marshal Commander by being stupid and oblivious. He may not seem like it at first glance, but Bly, just like every other command-hardened vod'e, was as sharp as a jai'galaar. The number of things that could get past him was near to nothing.

"Nothing's wrong, sir. The bacta tank seems to be-"

"You know that's not what I meant," Bly may have been joking around just a moment ago, but now his voice was firm. He was serious. Just as Kix took the men's wellbeing seriously, so did Bly, in his own way.

"I..." he trailed off as the words caught in his throat. He can't tell him, no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how good of an idea it seemed at the moment. He couldn't risk Bly reporting them. He may be a brother, but he's also a Marshal Commander. To ignore and turn a blind eye toward behaviour like this was a deathwish as much as it was disgraceful neglect of duty. And so Kix bit his tongue, stopping himself from saying anything more.

"I'm sorry, sir," he shook his head, his back still to him. "I can't say."

He heard Bly sigh behind him, but it wasn't an annoyed or irritated sigh, it was a concerned one, a disappointed one. "Alright," was all he said before silence fell upon them, uncomfortable, but not unwelcome.

Kix sighed inwardly as he finally turned to look at Bly. "Bacta tank's ready."

* * *

It was getting late, and most of the men had finally resigned to their respective bunks. Rex, however, was still up with Jesse. They kept their voices low, but the occasional annoyed grumble from one of the men indicated that it wasn't low enough, so they decided to go roaming the halls, just like Rex always did when he couldn't sleep. It was nice to have some company for once.

"I hope I never come face to face with a krayt dragon," Jesse grimaced beside him.

Rex chuckled in response. "Yeah." He glanced over at Jesse, who was keeping his gaze straight ahead. He wasn't sure how he missed it before, but there was a faint scar on the side of his head. That certainly wasn't there before he left, right? Rex squinted at it but said nothing.

Jesse noticed him staring and seemed to tense up. "Didn't you go on that mission with Appo? Where is he?" He attempted to get the attention off him, which seemed to be working as Rex's curious gaze morphed into one of realisation.

"Come to think of it, yeah. He said he was going to hit the fresher right after we arrived, but it's been ages since then and I haven't seen him," Rex's eyebrows furrowed, concerned.

Jesse himself was growing concerned. "We should go check the fresher then."

Rex nodded in agreement as they both quickened their pace toward the freshers. He reminded himself that it was probably nothing, that Appo was grown enough to take care of himself, but the older brother in him couldn't help but worry.

When they got to the fresher, they found Appo splashing his face over and over again with water. They also noticed the unmistakably pungent smell of vomit in the air. He didn't seem to hear the door slide open over the sound of his own ragged breathing as he was hunched over the sink.

"Appo! Are you okay?" Rex asked as he made a move to rush over to his side, but Jesse grabbed his arm.

"Not too close, Rex, he needs space to breathe," he said before releasing his arm.

Appo coughed as he looked up to face them. "What are you doing here, Captain?" He looked between the two of them and his brows furrowed at the sight of Jesse.

"You were gone since we got back, we got worried," Rex explained. He had moved closer by now but still kept his distance.

Appo scoffed. "Worried?"

"Yes, worried," Jesse cut in as he crossed his arms.

"Cut the bullshit," Appo snapped. "Before this no one fucking cared about me, no one batted an eye, no one gave a shit if I wasn't okay, and now - after I've been on a mission with the oh so great Captain Rex and General Skywalker, suddenly you think I'm worth caring about."

"Appo-"

"No! I said cut it out! Don't pretend to care about me now, when you never did before!" His breathing was getting more and more erratic as his voice rose.

Rex was frozen in place. He would only make things worse if he did or said any more. Jesse, who was standing at the doorway the entire time, made a move toward Appo and rested a hand on his shoulder. Appo looked like he was about to slap it away judging by the glare he gave him, but instead, he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down, returning his gaze to the sink in front of him.

"You don't look too well," Jesse said. He did his best to make sure his voice was as soothing as possible.

"Yeah, no shit," Appo choked out as he gripped the edges of the sink tighter.

Jesse turned to Rex and gave him a nod. _I got it from here_. Rex frowned, reluctant to leave. But it seemed his presence would do more harm than good, so he returned the nod and left. Once the door slid shut behind him, Appo spoke up again.

"I...I'm sorry. My head just doesn't feel right - well, none of me feels right. Tell him I'm sorry when you get the chance," he rasped out.

"I will," Jesse nodded. "But right now, we should get you to the medbay."

"I'm fine, dammit-"

"Puking your guts out for an hour straight doesn't exactly spell out 'fine'," Jesse interrupted as he hauled an arm over his shoulder. "Now come on."

Appo grumbled but did nothing to stop Jesse from dragging him to the medbay. He appreciated the help, though something about it didn't sit right with him. He felt uncomfortable with Jesse seeing him like this. He was always used to ordering him around and being strict, he never really made an effort to befriend him. But he guessed that didn't really matter, a brother in need was always a priority, no matter how close you were. He wanted to thank Jesse, the words even formed on the tip his tongue, but he swallowed them back down.

Maybe some other time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Di'kut- idiot
> 
> Jai'galaar- Mandalorian shriek-hawk(what jaig eyes are based on)
> 
> Vod'e- brothers


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fox needs a hug pls give him some.
> 
> Warnings: Angst, breakdowns, guilt, implied suicide

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.

The brother killer.

\---------------

It stuck, just as he had expected it too. What he hadn't expected, was to find himself breaking down because of it. He thought he could handle it. He was just doing his job after all, following orders. He hadn't done anything wrong, right? Then why did it feel wrong? And why was he being shunned for it? He knew he was never the best person, but he was a good Commander. He followed orders without question. Maybe that wasn't as good of a thing as he once thought.

He clutched his head tighter in his hands, fingers tangling in his hair. His chest heaved and ached as racked sobs tore themselves from his body. As Commander of the Coruscant Guard, his duty was to the people, to protect them. But it was an unspoken rule between brothers that their number one priority would always be each other. And he broke it, in the worst way possible. He didn't just hurt a brother, he killed him.

Another pained sob ripped through his throat as his breathing became frantic and uneven. Normally when this happened, Thorn would find him and console him. It wouldn't make the pain any less, but it did ease his mind to know that he wasn't alone. But now he was. Thorn was dead, loyal to The Republic to his last breath. What would he say if he saw him now? A mess of a man and a sad excuse of a clone. Thorn kept this secret of his and brought it all the way to his grave, but if anyone else saw him now, especially after what he'd done, he had no doubt in his mind that they wouldn't hesitate to report him. He knew all too well that anyone outside the Coruscant Guard was itching to find a way to get rid of him.

The vod'e first rule didn't apply to him anymore. He had forfeited that privilege when he put a blaster bolt through one of his own. If he was found out, he'd most likely be decommissioned. This type of behaviour was considered defective for a clone, after all. Best case scenario, he'd be sent for reconditioning instead. But if he was being honest with himself, he'd rather have the former. He'd do it himself if he could, but he had a duty to fulfil, and he couldn't do that if he was dead.

A voice in the back of his mind painfully reminded him that he was easily replaceable.

No. He made Thorn a promise, and he intended on keeping it. Honour his memory by it. Because no one else cared to remember and appreciate the sacrifices of a clone other than clones themselves. All they had were each other in this galaxy, but they all hated Fox. All they had were each other, but Fox had no one.

His shaky hands moved to his hips as he hugged himself, attempting to calm himself down. He lay crumpled pathetically on the floor, struggling to breathe through all the snot and tears. How could he be so stupid? He should've just stunned him. Why weren't his blasters set to stun? Why did he do it? Why couldn't be better? Why couldn't he protect Fives instead of killing him? Why-

The door to his office slid open. He froze and held his breath, trying not to make a sound.

"Commander?" a voice called. He knew that voice. A clone. Thire.

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Thire wouldn't turn him in, but he still didn't want to be seen like this. He trusted his fellow Commanders, Thorn, Thire and Stone, but he was only ever comfortable with Thorn seeing him this way. Even then it took a good while for him to finally accept Thorn's help. When he didn't respond, he heard his brother's footsteps tread carefully across his office and stop at his desk.

Thire knelt, taking his helmet off to reveal a look of concern.

"Fox..." he reached out to rest a comforting hand on his back.

Fox sniffled as he took a deep, shuddering breath. "What are you doing here, Thire?"

"Do you know what time it is? I figured you were working late as usual, but Stone convinced me to come with him to check on you. It's a good thing he did too. You look like shit, Fox," Thire chuckled softly. He tried his best at comforting his fellow Commander, though admittedly he wasn't very good at it.

Fox turned his head to look at him slowly. "S-stone?" he stuttered. He still hasn't fully regained his composure. He hated being seen like this, so vulnerable and exposed. But he shoved the feeling down. He could trust these two, at least.

Once Thire got a good look at his brother's face, he couldn't hold himself back anymore. He pulled Fox into a warm embrace. Or- what would've been a warm embrace if not for all the armour. Still, Fox found it comforting and melted into the hug, almost breaking down again. He snorted, he must really look like shit.

"Yeah, he's just outside. He's keeping watch just in case," Thire explained, still holding him in his arms. Fox couldn't help but smile. Looks like he was wrong. He wasn't alone. Thorn won't have to worry about him wherever he was. He deserved to rest.

Fox sniffled again as he hugged Thire as if he were clinging on for dear life. "Th-thank you."

"Come on. Let's get you back to the barracks. I think we all could use a good nights sleep."

Thire helped him put his beloved helmet back on, once again concealing his features. He rarely took it off as it is. It gave him some sense of false security, knowing people didn't know what he looked like under the bucket. Granted, he was a clone. But still, every clone had their minor differences, and he revelled in the fact that no one knew what expressions he was making under there.

Thire pulled him up gently. He held onto him, making sure he could stand on his own before letting go. Fox took a moment to compose himself, then followed Thire out the door. Just as he'd said, Stone was waiting just outside, blaster at the ready. He turned to look at them and his posture relaxed when he noticed Fox.

"Alright, brother?" he asked. He had his bucket on, so there was no way for Fox to know what expression he was making underneath it, but he could take a guess. Fox smiled to himself underneath his own helmet. _Brother_.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go," his voice came out a little scratchy, but Stone decided not to mention it. He probably heard what was going on in the office anyway.

Thire stayed close to Fox as they walked in case his legs decided to give out, and Stone walked not far behind them with his blaster still in his hands.

* * *

It was late, but 79's was always open late.

He sighed as he downed another shot, the cheap alcohol burning its way down his throat. He wasn't sure how many he's had, but he didn't really care. He trusted his brothers to get him back to their barracks safely, drag him if they had to. He didn't want to be sober enough to think, anyway. It hurt too much.

He raised his hand, about to ask for another when someone grabbed his arm and forced it down. He glared at them.

"I think you've had one too many already, sir," they said, concern adamant in their voice.

"I'm fine, Sinker. Let me go," he growled as he ripped his arm away from Sinker's grasp.

"Sir, please. Let's just go back. We can't just sit by and watch you drink yourself to death," another voice said behind him. He didn't even have to look to know who it was.

He scoffed in response. "Don't be so dramatic, Boost. I've barely had enough to give myself a hangover." That couldn't be more of a lie, but he didn't need two worried brothers babysitting him.

When there was no reply from either of them, he shut his eyes and furrowed his brows, frowning. He sighed deeply before turning to look at the two. Sinker looked distressed, worry plastered across his face. Boost, on the other hand, stood beside him with his arms crossed, sending a steady glare at the Commander.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he grumbled. "Let's go."

* * *

All different clone unit's barracks were kept in close vicinity of each other. Wolffe was a bit tipsy, but he could manage without any help. He wasn't some goddamned lightweight shiny. Sinker and Boost still lingered in close enough vicinity with him though, in case he lost his footing. He'd be lying if he said it didn't annoy him, but he couldn't tell them off for it. They were just looking out for him. And as much as he hated to admit it, they were right. He's been drinking way too much lately, it was becoming a problem. He needed to get himself together. He was Commander Wolffe for fucks sake, the Commander with an entire battalion literally named after him. He had to keep his head in the game.

As they neared the barracks, they saw another group of clones walking in the same direction. The red markings on their armour unmistakeable - Coruscant Guards. But they didn't have the standard markings on them, these seemed more customised. The mostly red armour caught his eye immediately - Fox. He noted the other two as Commanders as well based on the emblem painted on their shoulder pads, but he couldn't place who they were exactly.

They seemed to notice the grey armoured trio too. One of them had a blaster in his hands, not aiming it at anything, but his grip on it was suspiciously tense as if he were expecting an attack. He also noticed that the blaster was set to stun. Hmm...

One of them raised a hand at them in acknowledgement. Sinker and Boost each raised a hand in response, but Wolffe only nodded. Soon, they were walking side by side.

The Guard with a visor shade and pauldron spoke up. "Commander Wolffe, right?"

Wolffe wasn't wearing his bucket and when he turned to him, the caught off-guard expression was evident on his face. He mentally cursed himself for it. "Yeah, that's me," he said as he narrowed his eyes at the other trooper before returning his attention to the path ahead.

The trooper seemed to shift uncomfortably beside him. "I'm Thire. Well- Commander Thire," he said as he reached out a hand. Was he asking for a handshake? Wolffe stared at his hand for a moment before grabbing and shaking it. Of course, he was asking for a handshake. What else would it be? Wolffe mentally cursed himself again. He was a little too drunk for his own good.

He heard Boost snort behind him, followed by the sound of the clatter of armour and a less audible 'ow'. He ignored it.

"So, what are you three doing out this late? I'm assuming you aren't on leave," he tried to make conversation to fill the awkward silence that fell upon them.

"Oh- um...Well, the work of a Coruscant Guard Commander is never finished," Thire chuckled, but Wolffe could tell that wasn't the full truth. He decided to let it be. It was none of his business anyway.

He stole a glance at Fox, who had been silent the entire time. He's known Fox for a long time. They were batchmates, been friends since the command track on Kamino. But ever since they were deployed, they started meeting up less and less, especially as the war escalated. Eventually, they fell out of touch. He'll admit he never thought about his fellow command track batchmates as much as he used to. He used to miss them, Cody, Fox, Bly, Ponds, Rex and Keeli. They were friends once, but they didn't have time for that anymore. War is war, it was harsh and bloody and cruel, and it sure as hell didn't slow down for you to catch up with a couple of friends. Besides, they were clones. Keeli and Ponds were already dead. It was only a matter of time before-

He was snapped out of his thoughts as someone cleared their throat. Fox was looking at him now, helmet still on. Crap- had he been staring? He looked away as quickly as possible, trying to hide the blush of embarrassment that was creeping up his cheeks.

He heard Fox sigh, loud enough to be picked up by his helmets' modulator. "Long time no see, Wolffe." His voice sounded a bit strained as if he had just been screaming his lungs out...or crying. Thire had moved out of the way by now, allowing Wolffe and Fox to walk side by side while the others kept their distance behind them. They figured the two could use some privacy.

"Yeah," Wolffe replied simply. "How's Commander duty been treating you?"

He saw Fox stiffen out of the corner of his eye. Sensitive subject? Fox sucked in a sharp breath before letting it out slowly. "We've known each other for a long time," he began. Now Wolffe felt himself stiffen. What was he getting at? His voice grew quiet. "I can trust you, right?"

Wolffe turned to him but he kept staring straight. He gulped down the anxiety rising in his chest. "Yeah, Fox. You can trust me," he tried to sound as soothing as possible, though he wasn't sure if it actually worked.

Fox glanced behind them, checking to see if the others were still there. They were, but they were significantly further behind, bickering amongst each other about god knows what. Wolffe rolled his eyes at the sight. He turned back to look at Wolffe. He swallowed harshly as he bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stop himself from crying- again. It barely worked, a few tears still managed to slip past his efforts. God, he really was a broken clone.

He let out a sigh through his nose. "I..." he bit down on his lip hard. Fuck. He didn't want to cry. Not again. Not in front of Wolffe. His lips trembled. Wolffe looked at him with concern. He couldn't see what was going on underneath his helmet, but he didn't need to.

Wolffe resisted the urge to reach out and comfort Fox. He wasn't sure if he'd be comfortable with that. They were close once- trusted each other with this kind of thing, but that was a long time ago. He didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

"You know what I did, don't you?" he sounded so broken. It took everything in Wolffe not to hug him right then and there. Fox clenched his fists as they trembled.

"Fox, can I-" Wolffe didn't even get to finish his sentence as his brother called out to him.

"Please," he gasped out. His body shuddered as he tried taking steady deep breaths.

Nothing more needed to be said. Wolffe pulled Fox into his arms, wrapping them tightly around him. Fox clutched his shoulders as he broke down for the second time that night. He really was pathetic. Wolffe turned to see if the others were still there, but it seemed that they had gone back to their respective barracks, leaving the two Commanders alone.

"Take off your darned bucket, Fox. You'll ruin your HUD," Wolffe grumbled jokingly.

"I-I can't. I can't let anyone see me like this. Please- no one can see me like this," he sobbed.

Wolffe gently pushed him off. "Come on. I usually just sleep with the rest of my men while we're on leave, but I do have my own Commanders' barracks."

He led Fox to his barracks and sat him down on his bunk before locking the door. He knelt in front of him, looking through his visor where his eyes should be. He placed his hands on either side of his helmet. "Can I?" he asked, voice soft and tender. A rare occurrence for the grumpy Commander Wolffe.

Fox nodded and Wolffe gently pulled off his helmet, revealing the broken brother beneath it. He set it down carefully on the ground beside him.

Fox sighed through his mouth- his nose was too blocked- and chuckled. "You know, this is the second time tonight," he said as he wiped away his tears with his gloved hands.

"Vod'ika, look at me," Wolffe sounded stern yet gentle at the same time.

Fox slowly looked up from where his eyes were pointed at the ground to meet Wolffe's gaze. He had never thought about it before, but at this moment, he realised how much he missed him. Wolffe took off his gloves before removing his own. He then gently took his hands in his, running comforting thumbs across his knuckles. Fox couldn't help but smile, earning him a smile from Wolffe in return.

"It wasn't your fault."

Four simple words, and yet it was enough to make him sob uncontrollably again. He gripped Wolffe's hands tighter, his knuckles turning white. It hurt, but Wolffe didn't say anything. He's been through worse. If he could take getting his eye carved out by a lightsaber, he could take this. Fox seemed to realise though because his grip loosened.

"You wanna sleep here tonight?" he asked. He wouldn't force him if he didn't want to. He'd even carry him back to his own barracks if need be.

Fox scoffed, regaining some of his composure. "And what? Share a bunk with you?" he did like the idea, but he wasn't going to admit it.

"What? It'll be like the good ol' days, back when we were cadets," Wolffe smirked. "But I'll take you back to your barracks if you want."

"No," Fox said without missing a beat. He blushed at his hasty reply but quickly recovered. "I have to admit, I do miss the 'good ol' days'," he laughed. He felt better already.

Wolffe smiled- something he rarely did nowadays. "Great, cause I'm not gonna go easy on you with the cuddling," he teased.

Fox rolled his puffy eyes and returned the smile. "You better not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vod'ika- Vod(brother), ika(added to show affection)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolffe does his own digging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont think there are any warnings for this chapter. lmk if I should add any

His head felt heavy as he pried his eyes open. Grunting as he sat up, he desperately tried to rub away the sleep that lingered stubbornly beneath his eyelids. This was strange - he hasn't woken up like this ever since his last night on Kamino, what was going on? He barely got any sleep as it is, and even when he did, he always awoke already fully aware and ready to carry out his duties. The life of a Commander demanded nothing less. His brows furrowed together as he recollected the events the night before. 

His eyes flew open as he jumped out of bed. He had spent the night in Wolffe's barracks. That would explain him getting a good nights sleep for the first time in millennia, but now he was running late. The Chancellor would surely have his head for this. Frantically, he began reattaching his armour. He fumbled with a few pieces as a result of his trembling hands.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck-_

"Calm your ass down, vod," a voice grumbled from the fresher. 

Fox turned to look at Wolffe, who was leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, already in full armour - minus his bucket. He glared at him in envy at his seemingly relaxed state while his own heart was about to burst out of his chest any second.

"I'm la-"

"Thire commed after you fell asleep, said he'd take care of your shift for the day. You need the rest, vod," Wolffe returned the glare, though it didn't have as much bite as usual. After all, Commander Wolffe's glares were legendary amongst the GAR. 

Fox stared at him for a moment before letting his shoulders slump as he let out a heavy sigh, feeling defeated. He cast his eyes downward at his feet as he awkwardly shuffled them in place. When he said nothing after a few moments, Wolffe sighed and he pushed himself off the surface before walking toward Fox.

He grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little, urging him to look up at him. "Fox..."

"Don't," he snapped, looking up to face him. "You caught me at a bad time last night, Wolffe, that's all. I don't need your sympathy."

Wolffe narrowed his eyes at him, confused.

"I'm not some crybaby shiny, I'm a Commander. I don't need to be taken care of!" he yelled. "You all look at me like I'm some helpless weakling! You think I can't handle myself!"

"Fox-"

"And maybe you're right, maybe you're all right! All the more reason for the GAR to just get rid of me! All the other vod'e hate me anyway! And if someone else has to carry out my duties for me because I'm seen as unfit, then that settles it," his voice grew steadier toward the end.

Wolffe only stared at him, unblinking. Concern filled his eyes - well, eye - as his mouth hung open as if to say something, only to close again. He didn't think saying anything was a good idea right now, he didn't know what to say even if he wanted to.

Fox swallowed down the lump in his throat and held strong, refusing to be that pathetic crybaby he was the night before. "I'm a broken clone, Wolffe," he said matter of factly. He shrugged Wolffe's grip off his shoulders before moving to grab his helmet. 

But before he could, Wolffe shot out his arm and grabbed his. Even through the plastoid, his grip was crushing. He tightened it even further as he tugged Fox back roughly to face him. Fox had never been intimidated by fellow commanders before, especially his batchmates, but there was always a first for everything. 

Wolffe's eye seemed to grow darker as he glared at Fox. Even his cybernetic eye seemed to change. He spoke slowly.

"You listen to me, Fox," he growled. "Yeah, you're broken, that much is true. But you're a broken _man_ , not a broken clone. How dare you think you're nothing but disposable bantha fodder? To believe that is to believe the same about all of us, all our brothers." 

Fox searched his brother's eyes. He didn't know what he was looking for, but deep down he knew he would find something. And there it was - love. The love of a brother, the love of a friend. But there was also hurt in the way his jaw clenched and his forehead creased. What Fox had done had an impact on all the vod'e. How could it not? He had killed one of their own - one of _his_ own, and there was nothing he could do to change that. 

Wolffe tightened his grip once more, nearly cracking the plastoid and snapping Fox out of his trance. "I meant what I said last night, brother. It wasn't your fault."

"Then whose was it?" Fox challenged. Maybe he was just being stubborn, as he always was, but some part of him wanted to believe it too. He wanted to believe that Fives' blood wasn't on his hands. He nearly scoffed at the thought, he killed the man and had the nerve to be this selfish. 

_Despicable_.

"Whoever ordered you to do it," Wolffe said as he reluctantly released him from his grip. He kept his voice low as if urging Fox to tell him who it was. Who had ordered Commander Fox to kill his own brother?

Fox shook his head, finally reaching for his bucket and tucking it under his arm. "There's nothing you can do about that."

"Is that a challenge?"

"It's a fact."

Now it was Wolffe's turn to feel defeated. He mimicked Fox's movements as he picked up his own bucket. They maintained eye contact as they both shielded their gazes from each other and the rest of the galaxy once more. 

Wolffe pressed the button to the door and it slid open. He stood at the doorway for a moment, his back to Fox. He peered at him over his shoulder before nodding. And with that, Fox was alone. Alone with his thoughts along with his guilt - and oh, how dangerous one's own mind could be. 

* * *

Wolffe stalked his way to the 104th barracks to check up on his men. Even with his face hidden, his posture and aggressive stride were enough to indicate that he was pissed. _Really_ pissed. Fox may not have told him - due to discretion of duty or fear, he didn't know - but it didn't matter. Wolffe was smart, he could take a guess. But if he was right - which he's positively sure he was - then Fox was right too. There was nothing he could do about it.

And that's what was pissing him off so much. After an accelerated lifetime of pain and suffering, there's nothing he can do to get justice for his little brother and lift the burden off his fellow batchmate. As clones, their lives were unfair enough. For someone to flaunt their authority so valiantly and make it even more miserable was making his blood boil. He didn't care that he was the fucking Supreme Chancellor of the Republic - he hurt his brothers, and he'll never forgive him. 

Of course, that would make no difference to His Excellency. The opinion of one mere disposable, expendable, worthless one-eyed clone commander didn't matter. It never has and it never will. He hadn't known Fives well, they've never even met. But from what he's heard, Fives was an exceptional trooper. An ARC trooper, a creative thinker, a good man and a good friend with a sense of humour who always opted for what was right instead of what was easy.

Wolffe has never bothered to get attached to any other trooper outside of his battalion - fewer people to mourn in silence, he told himself - but oh how he wished he'd known Fives. ARC troopers weren't tied to any one unit, but he was assigned with the 501st more often than not. Rex always spoke highly of him, and if the word of the Captain was to be trusted - which of course it was - then the story behind Fives' death was most definitely not true. He had absolutely no proof, but his gut was telling him so. 

A virus? That's banthashit if he's ever heard it. The Kaminoans were a bunch of lying longneck bastards if you asked him. Though his knowledge of what happened that night was little to none, he was determined to learn more.

And he knew exactly where to start. 

* * *

The door to their barracks slid open without warning, making the troopers inside jump and scramble to hide all their contraband items. There was nothing of concern, but GAR rules were especially strict. Any and every little personal item was deemed contraband. Of course, their Commander and even their General turned a blind eye toward them. Life as clones fighting a futile war was hard enough as it is, the least they could do was spare them these little mercies.

"Commander on deck!"

"At ease."

Wolffe sat on the nearest vacant bunk before taking off his helmet. "Sinker, anything to report?"

"No, sir. Everything is in an orderly fashion, no incidents to report," Sinker straightened his posture as he tried - and failed - to subtly kick his sabacc cards under his bunk. Wolffe rolled his eyes. The Sergeant was always a terrible liar.

"Where were you last night, sir?" Wildfire asked. It was an innocent enough question, but Wolffe fought hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes at him nonetheless. He wanted to say it was none of his business, but he wasn't exactly in the mood for being moody - a first.

"My barracks," he replied as he narrowed his eyes at Wildfire, who visibly gulped. 

Warthog scoffed. "No offence, sir, but we all know you aren't comfortable sleeping alone."

His gaze snapped to Warthog who was dangling his legs off his bunk, not intimidated in the slightest. He wanted to reprimand him, but he couldn't deny it. It was true. Ever since Khorm, he's had nightmares. Not that he's never had them before, but they were exceptionally worse. There were nights where he woke up crying or screaming or both at once. He was embarrassed at first, but eventually swallowed his pride as he realised being with his brothers helped. It helped a lot. He rarely got them now, and when he did, they were there to take care of him.

Boost, in typical Boost fashion, snorted loud enough to snap him out of his thoughts. "He wasn't alone." 

Warthog arched a questioning eyebrow at him, urging him to elaborate, but the glare Wolffe was sending him made him shut up soon enough.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, sir."

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he stood up, securing his bucket over his head once more. "You know the drill, comm me if anything is awry. Try to stay out of trouble. We still have a couple more days of leave before we're back out on the front, try to enjoy it."

As he exited the barracks, he began making his way over to the Detention Centre.

He could ask Fox, but he didn't want to trouble him any more than he already has. He needed to learn more about Fives - who he was, what he was like. The best people to ask would, of course, be the 501st, but they were rarely on Coruscant as it is and he doubted they'd ever get the chance of being on world at the same time. 

The 501st was out of the question, but he had another idea. 

* * *

Once inside, he was met with none other than Commander Stone. Walking up to the transparisteel that separated the Guard from visitors, he nodded briskly at him. Stone crossed his arms and tilted his head, sceptical. 

"Commander Wolffe," he spoke warily. "What brings you here?"

"I'm here to see clone trooper Dogma, ex-501st," he stated plainly.

Stone was silent and unmoving for a beat as if analyzing Wolffe. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel the anxiety start to bubble in his chest, but he maintained his composure. He wasn't going to be intimidated by some Corrie Guard - Commander or not.

Finally, Stone nodded as he uncrossed his arms. "Very well, I'm gonna need you to place your blasters here." He pointed downward at a compartment sticking out underneath the thick transparisteel. Wolffe complied wordlessly and the compartment sealed shut.

Stone walked out of his glass cage and stopped beside Wolffe. "Now, if you'll follow me."

Wolffe nodded once. Stone walked passed him and began to lead the way, Wolffe following close behind. They fell into step side by side soon enough.

"So, Commander, if you don't mind me asking, what business do you have with Dogma?" Stone asked, shattering the silence between them. Wolffe rolled his eyes behind his helmet.

"Nothing that concerns you, _Commander_ ," he echoed the use of rank exaggeratedly, hoping Stone would catch on to his irritation. 

Stone hummed, seemingly unfazed by it. Either he didn't catch it, or he didn't care. Wolffe assumed the latter. He said nothing more. They walked in silence down the dark corridors, dimly lit by a red hue. The low hum of the shield generators was almost soothing - almost. Stone made an abrupt turn around a corner causing Wolffe to curse under his breath. He could've sworn he heard Stone chuckle. 

"Well, technically it does," Stone spoke up. "I'm a Commander of the Coruscant Guard after all. And while I'm on prison duty, anything to do with the prisoners is a concern of mine."

Wolffe sighed inwardly and clenched a fist to fight back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He couldn't even do it if he wanted to - not with his bucket on. Besides, Stone did have a point. He was stupid to think that he'd let it slide. 

"I need to speak to him about a few things," Wolffe stated. He wasn't sure how much he should give away. Being vague was playing safe, but Stone wouldn't be satisfied without a straight answer. It was worth a shot, though.

As expected, Stone slowly turned to him. "Which are?"

Wolffe bit his tongue. He didn't think this through enough. He came here impulsively if he was being honest. He was angry, and he still was, but dammit if he couldn't have thought up a cover story before getting here. 

"It's not every day you see a trooper imprisoned like some common criminal instead of being sent back to Kamino to be decommissioned or reconditioned," he said.

Stone tilted his head, silently questioning him further. 

"I just..." Wolffe trailed off. Blood rushed to his face at the thought of what he was about to say next. It was beyond stupid but was the best he had. "...want to see how our little brother is doing."

He worded it in a way that he knew - or hoped - would get to Stone. _Our_ brother. But there was truth in the lie nonetheless. Dogma was their brother - their little brother - who was punished for doing the right thing. Of course, he expected nothing less. A clone shooting a Jedi? He was surprised the kid was even still alive. 

_At least he's alive_ , he thought to himself.

Stone shifted beside him as if his armour had suddenly become too heavy. He nodded at Wolffe, though he was no longer looking at him. His silence was offputting, but Wolffe welcomed it.

"He's just up ahead," Stone told him. His voice sounded nothing like it did a few moments ago. No longer confident and demanding - just sad. Wolffe almost felt guilty for using every vod'e's weakness against him.

They stopped in front of Dogma's cell. It was very dimly lit and through the ray shield, he could just barely make out his silhouette. He was curled up on his bed - if it could even be called that - with his back facing them. If Wolffe didn't know any better, he'd think he was asleep. 

"Are you just gonna stand and stare?" Dogma called, not bothering to move. 

Stone and Wolffe turned to each other before looking back at Dogma. 

"Commander Wolffe is here to see you," Stone explained. 

At that, Dogma sat up and faced them, obviously surprised. Even in the red hue, they could make out the expression on his face - confused. 

Wolffe opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by Stone putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'll...leave you two be."

Wolffe flinched in surprise. Wasn't that against protocol? Well, it was a plus for him, but he wasn't expecting it. Stone seemed to catch on to his reaction. 

"I know it's against protocol, but I figured you wouldn't want me snooping in on your conversation now, would you?" Stone shrugged. "Besides, I'm sure I can trust you not to discuss anything...treasonous." 

A sheen of cold sweat formed on his forehead. Thank god for his bucket. He knew Stone couldn't have known what this was about, he was just joking - right?

"Of course," Wolffe finally spoke, nodding at Stone. He felt strange, lying to a brother like this, but he reminded himself that it was for the greater good. Lying to a brother to avenge another was but a small price to pay. 

Stone patted his shoulder before deactivating the ray shield and leaving them be. Wolffe remained rooted at the doorway while Dogma stayed seated on his bunk. For a moment, neither of them made a move - just staring at each other in silence. And while Wolffe had his helmet on, hiding his expressions, Dogma was fully exposed - his fear, nervousness and anxiety - all on display for Wolffe to see.

Wolffe took a step forward into the cell and Dogma flinched. At first, he felt annoyed. He wasn't that intimidating, what kind of soft shiny was this? Then he thought of the time this kid's spent in prison. He was just a kid - at least when he got here - and he wondered what he's seen, what he's been through. 

"Dogma," Wolffe called as he crossed his arms. "I'm only here to talk." 

"About?" Dogma's voice came out firm and strong, but his expression and posture said otherwise. 

Wolffe crossed the rest of the distance between them and he could tell Dogma was fighting back another flinch. He stopped just a fair distance away so he didn't have to strain his neck to look down at him. 

"I need information," he began.

Dogma's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm not sure I have any information that would be of use to you, sir."

"You do," Wolffe stated plainly as he unfolded his arms. He took a step closer and pulled off his helmet. "Now, tell me."

Dogma visibly gulped at the sight of his cybernetic eye.

"Who was ARC-5555?"


	8. Chapter 8

"...Fives," Dogma breathed. His face creased as he looked down. He's been in prison ever since Umbara, and he's not exactly up to date with the goings-on of the galaxy. Wolffe nodded. He didn't feel the need to say anything more. Judging by the look on Dogma's face, he was putting the pieces together quickly enough. "What happened?"

Wolffe sighed. "I don't know much, so it's not my place to say."

"Is he..?" Dogma looked up at him hopefully. The look in his eyes said that he already knew, but he was hopeful nonetheless. Maybe, just maybe-

Wolffe nodded once more as he held his lips in a thin line. He wasn't sure how Dogma would take the news, but he knew it wouldn't be well. He shifted uncomfortably. He barely knew the kid, how the hell was he supposed to comfort him? He was always terrible at that. Dogma took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out slowly. He gulped down the lump in his throat as his mouth began to feel dry. He and Fives weren't close, but ever since Umbara, he's respected the man.

Dogma swallowed again before nodding slowly. "Okay..."

Wolffe remained silent. That was definitely not the reaction he was expecting. He shifted his weight from one leg to another. The soles of his feet were beginning to feel sore after standing for so long, but he wasn't about to give in. He had practised performing perfect parade rest during his time as a cadet. Sometimes they'd stand there for hours at a time, surely he could handle something as simple as standing for a little too long.

"What do you need to know, sir?" Dogma asked as he finally looked back up to face Wolffe.

"Exactly what I said before," he grumbled, getting impatient. "Who was he?"

"Well," Dogma chuckled, feeling bittersweet. "He was smart, efficient, inspiring...if anyone was worthy of being an ARC trooper, it was Fives." 

As Dogma trailed off, a realisation hit Wolffe. Fives was somewhat of a role model for him. 

"I've only ever worked with him on one campaign, Umbara, and we didn't exactly get along," Dogma carried on. "At the time, I was young, naive. I thought superior officers could never be wrong and that our sole purpose in life was to obey them without question. Of course, Fives didn't agree with that."

He looked up at Wolffe who silently motioned for him to continue.

"The General commanding us at the time, Pong Krell, had...questionable tactics. He sacrificed men for no reason other than his own stubbornness and recklessness. I was too stupid to see that it was something much more sinister than that," Dogma sighed as he shook his head. 

"But Fives was a smart man. He caught on immediately. He even went behind Krell's back with his own tactics and that was what ultimately saved the day. Krell was furious, though. He ordered for him and Jesse, another trooper that helped him, to be executed." Dogma's breath seemed to be getting shakey. 

"I..." his voice cracked. "Everyone else was reluctant to go through with it, but I...I was determined to. I had no doubt in my mind that Krell was right and that Fives and Jesse deserved to be punished for their foolishness."

He bit his lip and looked away from Wolffe. "I see now, that I was the biggest fool there. Krell even said it himself. I was so blinded by my loyalty to the Jedi that it didn't even occur to me that they could do wrong, that they could be...evil."

Wolffe frowned. He hasn't been with any other general other than General Plo, and hearing that Jedi could be evil felt as far fetched as saying bantha could fly. He didn't blame the kid, but Pong Krell was no Jedi. 

He let out a shuddering sigh. "It wasn't until...he made us kill our brothers."

"What?" Wolffe interrupted, wide-eyed. 

"He told us the enemy was wearing our armour and relayed the same information to the 212th. He..." Dogma sucked in a sharp breath. "He did it...just because he could."

Wolffe's mouth hung agape. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew Umbara was a sensitive subject for both the 501st and the 212th, but he never knew why. He didn't think it was his place to pry. Dogma hasn't said as much about Fives as he'd hoped, but he couldn't interrupt the poor kid now. He was probably hurting from all this guilt that's been eating away at him as he rotted in prison. The least he could do was help him let it out.

Dogma sniffled as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Ever since Umbara, I've respected Fives. Hell, I even looked up to him. He said something while the firing squad took aim. I never thought much of it then, but now, I stand by it with my life. He said: 'we are loyal soldiers, we follow orders, but we are not a bunch of unthinking droids. We are men. We must be trusted to make the right decisions, especially when the orders we are given are wrong.'"

He chuckled. "Word for word. It's been ingrained into my memory after everything that's happened. I didn't dare let myself forget."

Wolffe hummed. His theory that the whole story of Fives attempting to assassinate the Chancellor was banthashit was becoming more and more plausible. 

"It seems I have everything I need for now," Wolffe began. "But there's one more thing."

Dogma looked at him expectantly. 

"The other trooper that helped Fives, what was his name?"

"Jesse," Dogma clarified. "There was another with them, Hardcase, but he didn't survive."

Wolffe nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Dogma." 

Dogma returned the gesture as Wolffe turned to leave, comming Stone in the process. As Stone arrived, Wolffe turned to Dogma one last time. 

"I can't help you, but I'm sorry. I truly am." Wolffe never apologised, especially not for things that had nothing to do with him, but he felt as though it was necessary at this moment.

Dogma smiled at him sadly. "No worries, Commander. You've already helped me plenty."

* * *

Wolffe sighed heavily as he sat down on his bunk. Fox was no longer here, and neither were any of his belongings. He didn't know where he was, but he at least hoped that he was taking it easy after last night. 

He stared at his comm for a good while, contemplating. He had no idea where Rex was at the moment, probably on the front. The 501st rarely got any rest. He didn't want to comm at a bad time, but then again, would he even know when would be a good time? He sighed again as he keyed in Rex's frequency - _private_ frequency - not the Command channel. 

There was a few seconds of silence that made Wolffe second guess this decision. He was about to turn the comm off when a voice came through the other end.

 _"Captain Rex,"_ it crackled through. Rex's voice sounded calm enough, so he most likely wasn't in the middle of a battle - which was good. Wolffe let out the breath he was holding.

"Rex, it's Wolffe."

 _"Commander! To what do I owe the pleasure?"_ he sounded surprised. Of course, he did, this was the first time Wolffe has contacted him in millennia. 

"Nothing grand, I'm afraid," Wolffe snickered. "I was just wondering...when are you lot due back on Coruscant?"

There was a pause on the other end. Then, _"Actually, we're on our way there now. Sho_ _uld be arriving in three standard days."_

Wolffe made a sound of surprise which Rex unsurprisingly took notice of. 

_"Not on leave, though. Just transporting General Secura and Commander Bly back to the rest of the 327th,"_ he clarified.

"Ah, I see." Wolffe nodded in understanding though he knew Rex wouldn't be able to see it. What were they doing with the 501st anyway? He didn't bother to ask. "So I assume you won't have time to catch up over some drinks?" he asked instead. It was partly a joke, but he was also a little hopeful.

He heard Rex chuckle on the other end. _"We'll see, Wolffe. Maybe Bly would take you up on that offer, he could use a few drinks."_

"I dunno, Rex. If anything, I think yellow-cheeks needs to lay off on the alcohol for a bit. He's already swooning over his General sober, can't imagine what he'd do drunk." There was a barely audible 'hey!' in the background of Rex's comm, causing Wolffe to chuckle. "Hello to you too, Bly," he teased. 

_"I'd better get going. Duty calls,"_ Rex said after he calmed down from laughing. 

"Of course," Wolffe grunted. He hadn't meant to keep Rex on the line for so long, but it did feel good to hear his voice again. "K'oyacyi, vod."

 _"K'oyacyi,"_ Rex echoed. And with that, ended the comm.

The sudden silence rested on Wolffe's shoulders heavier than anticipated. He stood up and stretched his arms, trying to shake off the feeling. Rex said they'd be here in three standard days, which meant that he had exactly two days after that before the Wolfpack were back on the front. 

He paced around the small space he called a barracks as he immersed himself in thought. He could catch up with Rex and Bly on the first day, maybe even get Fox to tag along. He knew all too well that they all needed to unwind for a bit. But he needed to think of a way to meet with Jesse without it being suspicious. 

He could always ask Rex, but the Captain would definitely think something was up. After all, Commander Wolffe would never just casually ask to meet with some trooper that wasn't even in his battalion. 

He sighed as he ran a hand over his face. This was going to be more complicated than he'd like. 

* * *

Thire had just about had it with all of Fox's flimsiwork. He put his head in his hands as he groaned. How did that bastard put up with all of this? And they say Corrie Guards don't do anything. 

He jumped as the door to Fox's office slid open without warning, revealing none other than...Fox on the other end. He stared at him in surprise before shifting his gaze toward the two other troopers that were standing behind him, guilt evident in their posture even if he couldn't see their faces. 

"Jek, Rys, I thought I told you to _warn_ me if this red di'kut decided showed up," he grumbled as he narrowed his eyes at the two. 

Jek rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "We didn't have time, Commander. He just-" He cut himself off as Fox turned to face him. Even with his bucket on he could tell he was glaring at him.

Thire sighed and waved the two off. "Whatever. You're dismissed." 

A quiet chorus of 'yessir' followed as they stalked away awkwardly. Thire waited until they were out of sight before turning to Fox. "I told Wolffe to tell you I'd be taking care of your work for today."

"He did," Fox replied simply, still rooted in his place by the doorway. 

Thire stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Then what are you doing here?" he asked tiredly. Sure flimsiwork was a pain in the ass, but he was still willing to finish what he started and not dump it all on Fox. 

"I never agreed to it," he said as he stepped into the office, allowing the door to slide shut behind him. 

"Fox, please, you need to-"

"Oh don't worry, I'm not here to stop you." His tone was almost teasing. He walked over to a small couch in the corner of the room and plopped down unceremoniously. He sighed contently as he kicked his feet up to rest on one of the armrests and splayed his arms out. He pulled off his helmet and dumped it on the ground without so much as a glance at it. 

His eyes shifted to Thire, who was staring at him the whole time, eyes narrowed. He raised an eyebrow at him. "What? You wanted me to take it easy."

Thire grumbled something incoherent under his breath as he turned back to all the flimsi on the desk. His face immediately fell as if he'd just remembered it was there. "How do you put up with all this?" he mumbled.

"I don't," Fox murmured lazily as he closed his eyes. He made a sound of satisfaction as he squirmed his way into a more comfortable position.

Silence fell upon the two and neither of them seemed opposed by it. The only sound that filled the room was Fox's peaceful breathing and Thire's occasional incoherent swearing. If Fox had to guess, he'd say about an hour had passed when Thire finally spoke up again, shattering his peaceful quiet.

"Are you asleep?" he asked. Not too loud, as if he weren't expecting an answer. 

"No," Fox replied, eyes still closed.

Thire scoffed. "You've been laying there with your eyes closed for at _least_ an hour, how did you not fall asleep?"

Fox grunted. "Got a lot on my mind, I guess."

Thire was silent for a beat. Then, "Wanna talk about it?"

Fox snickered at the offer. "No."

Thire hummed but didn't say anything more. Soon Fox heard that all too familiar sound of him flipping through flimsi again. He snuggled deeper into the couch, determined to get as comfortable as he possibly could. And with the newfound silence that befell them again, he might even take a nap. 

His plans for slumber were foiled at the sound of the office door sliding open. His brows furrowed in irritation, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. 

"You guys are chilling without me? Rude," Stone said as he stomped into the office with fake fervour. 

"We aren't _chilling_ ," Thire countered. "At least, I'm not. Little red Fox over there seems to be enjoying himself, though."

Fox grunted at the nickname. He heard Stone chuckle. "So it seems," he said. He could hear the mischief in his voice, and he knew what that meant. His eyes flew open as he scrambled to get up but he was too late. 

Stone landed right on top of him. Did he ever tell the bastard how heavy he was? 

"Stone! Get off!" he yelled as he desperately tried to squirm out from under him. 

Stone only laughed at his efforts. "Fox? Didn't see you there!"

"Screw you! Why the fuck are you so heavy!?" he groaned as he tried pushing Stone off instead, but that didn't seem to be working either. He could hear Thire snort from across the room. "Shut the fuck up, Thire!"

Thire couldn't hold it in anymore at that. He broke out into full-on laughter, Stone soon following suit. These absolute di'kut's. The sounds of his struggling seemed to drown out over the sound of their laughter. He finally managed to push Stone off as he caught his breath from laughing so much. He landed on the floor with a thump. 

"Ow!" he exclaimed exaggeratedly. 

Fox got up and brushed himself off. "Serves you right, you asshole," he grumbled. 

Stone finally came down from his giggle high, wiping away the tears in his eyes. "Worth it," he smirked. 

Fox rolled his eyes at him. "Ass. Hole," he emphasised. 

"Careful, you're starting to look like Commander Wolffe," Thire butt in. Fox ignored him.

"Ah, whatever vod. You know you love me," Stone winked at him as he grabbed Fox's hand as support to pull himself up, even when he _definitely_ didn't offer it to him. 

His ears perked up at the sound of Thire still chuckling quietly to himself. "Hey! I want that flimsiwork done by sundown," he barked. 

Thire stopped chuckling at that and glared at him. 

"What? You signed up for this, vod," Fox shrugged, satisfied he at least got back at one of them. 

Thire rolled his eyes at him and let out an exasperated sigh. 

" _Careful,_ " Fox echoed, clearly taking too much pleasure in mocking him. " _You're starting to look like Commander Wolffe_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K'oyacyi - stay alive
> 
> Sorry this chapter is a little short! The next one wont be (I hope)


	9. Chapter 9

As a Marshal Commander in the GAR and of the 212th Attack Battalion, Cody has seen his fair share of war. The blood, the screams, the destruction, the smell of blaster fire and burnt flesh all engrained into his memory. He was practically numb to it - or so he'd like to believe.

He sometimes stole glances at his fallen brothers in the midst of a battle, but instead of feeling grief like he used to, he feels envy. He's tired. He's tired and he envies them for being able to rest for eternity while he's stuck here fighting for his life, for his brothers lives, for the Republic.

Tch- The Republic.

Cody is no shiny. He's not naive. He's spent long enough on the front lines and with nat born military personnel to know that the only way a clone will see freedom is through death. He feels guilty for all the times he had wished it was him laying lifeless and forgotten on some irrelevant battlefield. Not that it wasn't relevant to the Republic, oh it was. But to the clones - or at least to him, it didn't really matter. He knew full well that every battlefield they land on could very well be their graves, and if they did survive, it was just onto the next and the next, until they finally died or the Republic saw no more use of them.

Cody didn't really care about battles - not like he used to, but he kept fighting because that's what he was made to do. Commander Cody does his job well, but he knows better than to celebrate his victories. They meant a little less than nothing to him as a clone, for he knew he and all his brothers would never see the end of the war. They'd just keep fighting, just to die another day.

He tries not to let his emotions show in front of his men to maintain his reputation, but also to keep up morale. He knew it was already dangerously low. There was nothing much he could do about it if anything at all, but it wouldn't help to let them see through his perfect stoic Commander facade. To see that the great Commander Cody was indeed human and just as miserable as the rest of them. They thought just because he was a superior officer that he was also a superior brother, but that was far from the truth. The war was taking a toll on all of them, but he had to stay strong in front of his men or he'd risk them losing hope. He knew he and the General were the only things keeping them motivated now.

They've all lost so many brothers, so many friends, they've started questioning if it was all worth it. Though none of them dared speak it aloud, he knew. Cody knew his men. He cared for them, he'd be willing to neglect himself and suffer alone in silence for their sake, his brothers' sakes.

He may not be close with all of them, but he loved every single one of them all the same. He loved his vod'e, and they loved him - though none of them said it, they didn't need to.

Cody - and now many others knew the only way a clone would see freedom was through death. He wished it weren't so, his vod'e deserve better. They're alive, it was only fair that they deserved to live. But alas, the galaxy doesn't play fair. It never had, and it never will. And so they continue to serve, to fight and to die for The Republic. They do everything they were made to do, fulfilling their life's purpose.

Yet Cody can't help but wonder - and he knows the others feel the same - if it was worth it, or if it'll all be for nothing in the end. That their lives, their sacrifices, would have amounted to nothing. That the countless brothers dead and faceless across the galaxy had really, truly, died for nothing.

He was snapped out of his thoughts at the sight of his comlink flashing. Cody resisted the urge to sigh as he pressed the button to answer.

"What is it?" he snapped. He wasn't particularly in the mood for dealing with his rowdy men. That's usually what they commed him about.

"Bad time, Commander?" the voice on the other end asked, a hint of amusement in their tone.

"General! S-sorry, sir. I wasn't expecting it to be you," Cody blurted out frantically.

"No worries, Cody. I was just wondering if you would like to join me in the officers' lounge for dinner. There are quite a few things I would like to discuss with you," Kenobi asked, his voice as gentle as always.

"Officers' lounge, sir? Isn't that- well, for officers?"

"Are you not the Marshal Commander of this battalion, Cody? You're an officer as well," Kenobi said as if he were stating the obvious.

"Well yes, sir. But I'm a clone," he replied as if he were also stating the obvious.

"Your point, Commander?" Kenobi asked again, slight irritation in his tone. "I do hope you're aware that I think of you as an equal, not just some clone."

"O-oh. Um- thank you, sir. What time shall I meet you?" Cody asked, trying to change the subject. He's unsure as to why he felt embarrassed.

"Around 2000 should be fine, Cody. No rush," the usual tenderness returning to Kenobi's voice.

The light on the comlink shut off indicating that the comm had ended. Cody rubbed his temples and sighed. What did the General want to discuss? And why in the officers' lounge? Surely the regular meeting room would've been fine. He tried not to overthink it. He still had some reports to finish up on their last campaign.

He sat at his desk and continued looking through the many datapads scattered all over it, signing what needed to be signed and making sure there were no mistakes in the reports.

* * *

He'd been at it for a good two hours now when he decided to take a break. He arched his back in his seat and cringed when he heard several bones crack. Seems like he needed to hit the training room soon. Too much time at his desk was taking a toll on his body, and that wasn't exactly acceptable for a fairly young Marshal Commander such as himself. He stood up and checked his chronometer.

1900

He had an hour to spare, might as well make use of it at the training room. Though he wouldn't exactly call himself out of shape, he could definitely do with improving it. The training room shouldn't be too full at this time, maybe a couple of other troopers at most.

He went into the fresher to freshen up before changing into his training attire. It wasn't much, just a standard Republic-issue black t-shirt and sweatpants. He threw a towel over his shoulder as he stepped out of his barracks and made his way to the training room.

On the way there, he ran into a couple of troopers who either greeted him or gave him a quick salute of acknowledgement. Some had their buckets on, but others seemed to have just gotten back from the training room themselves.

Once he made it there, he was relatively relieved to see that there were only two other troopers inside at the moment. He made no effort to acknowledge them or make his own presence known. He wasn't really in the mood for interactions. He made his way over to one of the treadmills and set his towel down on one of the handlebars.

The other two looked at him for a moment but went back about their business soon after as if he weren't there. Cody recognised them. Boil was lifting weights on the other side of the room, far enough not to bother him - not that Boil was the type to do so. Wooley, who was doing pull-ups in a slightly closer vicinity, was keeping a close eye on him, though he tried not to make it seem obvious.

Cody cursed under his breath. He'd gotten injured on their last campaign. Nothing serious, just a pulled muscle in his left thigh, but knowing Wooley, the medic would never get off his ass about taking it easy until he fully recovered. He hasn't said anything yet though. Probably waiting to see if he would actually push it too hard.

He rolled his shoulders, about to turn the treadmill on when-

"Shouldn't you do some stretching first, Commander?" Wooley said. Cody turned to him and saw that the medic had packed up his things, making his way toward him. Great.

"Right. Appreciate the reminder, Wooley," Cody replied, trying to get Wooley to leave him alone.

"No problem, sir," he said as he set his things beside Cody, taking up a spot on the unused treadmill beside him. Looks like he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"If you're here to keep an eye on me, you can leave. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Cody said, his annoyance clear in his voice.

Wooley was silent for a moment before he spoke up again. "I'm not here for you, sir. I'm here for him," he lowered his voice as he spoke, subtly gesturing toward Boil on the other side of the room.

Cody looked at him before shifting his gaze toward Boil, then at the ground. His brows furrowed. Right. Though it's been some time since Umbara, Waxer was still Boil's best friend. It was taking a toll on him. Everyone had noticed, but no one said anything about it. Boil was never one to be patient or good with his emotions after all. If someone were to ask him outright, he'd feel cornered and get defensive.

Cody sighed again, but this time it was out of sympathy. "You think he'll be alright?"

"Honestly, sir, I don't know. It's been long enough since Umbara. I understand that they were close, but...we were engineered not to be affected by this kind of thing. I know he's been holding his own just fine so far, but I'm a trained medic, sir. I can tell, even if he doesn't make it obvious. He's not okay," Wooley sounded worried. He wasn't as close with Boil as Waxer had been, but they were brothers nonetheless.

Cody wasn't quite sure what to say. "What should we do?"

"I'm not sure. No one can really help him if he doesn't want to be helped. And you know how he can be," Wooley sighed.

Cody nodded. Yeah, he knew. He then thought of the time they were on Ryloth. Boil and Waxer had gone missing on their mission to scout the towns, only to show up later with a little Twi'lek girl. She seemed to adore them and they adored her too. Cody didn't think Boil had it in him to develop a soft spot for anyone other than Waxer, especially a kid. Waxer even went so far as to paint her onto his helmet. Of course, he did. Waxer had always been a big softie at heart. He wondered if Boil only tolerated the girl for Waxer's sake, but that seemed unlikely.

"What about that little girl?" Cody began. "What was her name...Numa?" he asked, looking at Wooley.

"Ah, the kid," Wooley smiled to himself. "Waxer told me about her. In fact, he wouldn't shut up about her for a good while after we left. Poor guy missed her so much. I could tell Boil did too, but Boil is Boil, he would never admit to something like that," he chuckled softly.

Cody couldn't help but smile to himself too at the thought. "Maybe we could-"

The sound of a weight dropping onto the floor made both men turn towards its source. Boil sighed as he pushed himself up, stretching his arms as he did so.

"Are you two actually gonna work out, or are you just gonna keep talking about me?" he sounded pissed. Rightfully so, Cody thought. Shit, he thought they'd been keeping their voices low enough.

Boil chugged down all the water in his bottle before wiping his mouth on his wristband. "I appreciate the concern, Commander. But with all due respect, sir, leave me the fuck alone."

And with that, he grabbed the rest of his things and stormed out of the gym.

Wooley let out a heavy sigh beside him. "Great. Now things are gonna get even harder. I guess I should get going, sir. See you at the mess hall for dinner?"

"No, not tonight. The General wanted to speak to me about some things. He uh...invited me to the officers' lounge," Cody hesitated, unsure if he should call it an invitation. Maybe he shouldn't have, it didn't sound appropriate.

"Pfft- officers' lounge," Wooley echoed somewhat mockingly. "Well, enjoy your time there, sir. I'll see you when I see you. Hopefully not in the medbay, though."

Cody snorted. "Don't worry, Wooley. I'll be careful."

"You'd better. Oh, and by the way, take it easy on the leg," Wooley teased, patting him on the shoulder before exiting the gym.

Once he was alone, Cody let his shoulders slump and sighed, feeling dejected. What was he going to do about Boil?

 _Nothing_ , a voice in the back of his head said. He brushed away the thought. That did seem like the simplest answer, Boil didn't even want help. But he couldn't just leave him be like that. It was dangerous and risky for both his life and the rest of the men's.

He sighed again as he turned the treadmill on. Might as well sweat away all this stress while he's here.

* * *

Cody felt out of place in the officers' lounge. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sweat sticking his blacks even tighter onto his body under his armour. He had taken a quick shower before coming here, but his uncomfortableness alone was enough to produce a layer of cold sweat. He sighed softly, the sound not loud enough to be picked up by his helmet's modulator. He decided he'd only take it off when the General arrived - to make it seem more formal. 

He was here a little early. Not that there was any harm in that, right? He adjusted his posture once more before jumping slightly when the door slid open. He's been on edge lately, what was up with that?

Kenobi took a seat across from him. "Why so tense, Cody?" he asked as placed his elbows on the table, folding his hands in front of his face.

"No reason, sir," Cody dismissed the question, hoping the General wouldn't press further on it. He didn't even know the answer himself. Maybe he'd see Wooley about it later. No, that was stupid. 

"Hmm, alright. Well, I'm assuming you wouldn't want to eat with your helmet on now would you, Commander?" Kenobi raised an amused eyebrow at him.

Shit. His bucket. "O-oh um- No, sir," Cody scrambled to take it off. 

Kenobi only smiled at him. "Shall we get some food?"

* * *

After they both got their food, they sat back down. Cody decided not to start eating until the General did.

Kenobi was going about setting a napkin on his lap when Cody's stomach grumbled. His face flushed a deep red, embarrassed. 

Kenobi chuckled. "Go ahead, Cody. No need to wait for me."

"Um- yes, sir. Sorry, sir," he mumbled before shoving a forkful of whatever was on his tray into his mouth. He wasn't exactly sure what it was, he hasn't seen anything like it before. Some sort of meat, he noted. It tasted good, though. Really good. Before he knew it he was already stuffing another slice into his mouth.

"Enjoying yourself, Commander?" Kenobi asked before taking a bite of his own mystery meat steak. 

Cody made sure to swallow before answering. "Yes, sir. If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is this?" he poked at the meat with his fork.

"It's bantha," Kenobi replied as he took a sip of water before taking another bite.

"Huh," Cody looked down at his tray. "I've never had bantha." He said it more to himself, but he heard the General hum in acknowledgement anyway.

Kenobi dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "Well, I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here?" he asked as he rested an elbow on the table, leaving his hand hanging limp in front of his face as he poked at his steak.

"Yes, sir," Cody replied. He stopped eating to give his full attention to whatever the General had to say. 

Kenobi made eye contact with him as he lowered his arm. "Forgive me for being so upfront about it, but it's about the morale of the men."

Cody froze. "What do you mean, sir?"

"This war is escalating. It hasn't been getting any easier, and I've noticed that more than a few of the men have been on edge. I try not to pry, but being surrounded by so many uneasy minds does leave its impression on me," he stated.

Cody tilted his head at him, unsure of what to say. Kenobi sighed and continued.

"So, tell me, Cody. Has anyone been acting unlike themselves as of late? Any reason for concern?" he seemed genuinely worried like he truly cared about his men, but some bitter part of Cody told him that he was only worried for all the battles they'd lose if this went on. He bit his tongue.

"There have been a few," he started. He paused for a moment to think of who to name. He knew the General wouldn't hurt them, he could trust him with that at least. "Boil's been isolating himself as much as possible ever since Waxer's death, and he seems more irate than usual."

Kenobi hummed as he stroked his beard. "I've noticed the two were close. Waxer's death was indeed unfortunate. He was one of our best," he sighed. "Anyone else?"

"Trapper's been a little jumpier lately, but he hides it well. He seems fine, but I can tell, sir," Cody resisted the urge to sigh. It felt strange telling Kenobi about this. He knew the General had every right to know, but it just didn't sit right with him, like he was exposing his brothers.

Kenobi seemed to have noticed Cody's unease. How, exactly? He decided to chalk it up to him being a Jedi. "Don't worry, Cody. No harm will come to them. I only want what's best for my men. I'm here to help," he smiled gently at Cody, but it did little to ease his mind.

"Yes, sir," Cody nodded stiffly. 

Kenobi seemed to search his eyes for a moment before sitting upright in his seat. "Is that all?" he eyed Cody again as if he were expecting him to say something - _admit_ to something.

"Yes, sir," Cody said again.

"Alright, then. Let's finish our food before it gets too cold, shall we?" his smile radiated warmth, but Cody couldn't help but feel off-put by it. He knew he was hiding something. 

"Of course, sir," he said as he began cutting into his steak again.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my upload schedule is very inconsistent and I am so sorry

_"Go go go!"_

_"Take cover!"_

_"We're too exposed!"_  
  


The sounds of screams and blaster fire filled the air. The scent of singed flesh and blood was fresh in his senses. He felt like throwing up. As battle-hardened as he was, it never got easier. But stopping now, even for a moment, meant certain death. 

A blaster bolt flew right past his head as he ducked just in time. The trooper behind him wasn't so lucky. He stole a glance at his fallen brother, memorising the markings on his armour. It was Wires, one of the newest additions to the 212th. He felt angry at himself for lasting this long while others fell around him. 

The path ahead was foggy, only being illuminated by the bright flashes of blaster fire. They could barely see their enemy, let alone return well-aimed shots. They were flying blind while the droids picked them off a few dozen at a time. Their numbers were depleting drastically and calling for back up wasn't an option. They'd already tried that, only for the gunships to be shot down by anti-air turrets they couldn't even see.

"Draw out their fire!" Cody yelled into the comms. "Out of the fog! If we can see em' we can hit em'!"

They were trying their best with what they had, they really were, but that evidently wasn't enough. The enemy had the upper hand in every aspect of this fight. If he weren't fighting for his life right now, Cody would be impressed. Droids never had this much efficiency before. Perhaps there was a living officer with them, or the tactical droids got an upgrade. Whatever it was, Cody cursed it to nebula and back. 

Their mission was simple enough: take the communications tower, and either reestablish it to transmit Republic comms or destroy it altogether.

But this mission wasn't going according to plan. Intelligence had told them that The Separatists had minimal defence in this area as they weren't expecting an attack. As such, the General only deployed a few platoons to take it. It seemed like an easy enough target. Cody thought the fact they were called Intelligence was extremely ironic when really, they were anything but. 

And as a result of their _stupidity_ , what little of the 212th that were deployed were now outnumbered and outgunned. This couldn't get much worse, could it? 

A sharp ringing cut through the atmosphere and Cody knew he spoke too soon. He recognised its source from a mile away and dread settled in his gut. 

"Get to high ground! Now!" he barked frantically into the comms and at the troopers that were within earshot. "Climb the trees!"

They all scrambled, panicking. Some climbed with their bare hands while others used grappling wires. They didn't ask questions - they didn't need to. They trusted their Commander to protect them, and that's exactly what he'll do.

Cody made it to a high branch when he heard a trooper struggling behind him. 

"S-sir! I can't!" he sounded terrified. And young. Too young to die out here. His boots were covered in mud, rendering him unable to get a steady grip on the tree.

"Grab my hand!" Cody yelled over the chaos as he reached his arm out to him. They were both straining their arms to their limits as they tried their best to grasp at one another. Cody wasn't going to let another little brother die, not if he could help it. Just a little closer-

The ground shook as the defoliator hit the surface and in the blink of an eye, any and all troopers that were still on the ground were reduced to nothing but ash. Their screams echoed through his mind. Cody stayed frozen in place, his arm still reaching out. Though, there was no one on the other end - not anymore. 

The surviving men looked around in horror. What the hell was that? Intelligence had also said that The Separatists no longer had defoliators at their disposal. Cody bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. 

The chaos had settled for the moment. Surely, the droids would be marching in any second - pick off what little the defoliator had missed. But for now, they had time to catch their breath. Cody hopped down from the tree and the others soon followed suit. He looked around. There was nothing left. Not even armour to memorise. He didn't even know the kid's name. 

"Sir, what the hell was that?" Boil asked as he angrily marched up to him. 

Cody just stared at him for a moment and said nothing. His eyes skimmed through what was left of his men. There was barely a platoon's worth."Fall back," he said finally.

"What?" Boil sounded shocked, yet relieved. 

"I said fall back!" Cody yelled. "We're outmatched! Retreat!"

* * *

They ran further away from the droid barricade toward a clearing that was far away enough for the gunships to safely land and pick them up. 

He was in a gunship with Boil and Wooley, along with a few other troopers. They all stood in silence, buckets on, not even sparing glances at each other. After long, gruelling hours filled with nothing but explosions, blaster fire and screams, the sudden silence was agonising. Wooley apparently couldn't take it anymore as he was the first to speak up. 

"It was a meat grinder down there," he muttered quietly as he gently shook his head. He sounded more in disbelief than anything. 

Boil scoffed, but he was anything but amused. "You think?" His voice dripped with venom. He turned to Cody, who was painfully aware of his accusatory gaze but refused to meet it. 

"It could've been worse," Crys sighed. "At least we made it out with our lives."

Boil snapped his gaze toward him at that. "Oh yeah? What about the countless others that didn't, huh? D'you seriously only fucking care about yourself?" His voice grew more agitated as he made a move toward Crys, but was stopped by Wooley's hand on his chest.

"Calm down, Boil. We're all tense, there's no need to do more harm."

Boil stopped his advance and scoffed, slapping Wooley's hand away in the process. "Whatever," he grumbled as he crossed his arms.

Wooley sighed, relieved that the tension had eased, but he was also tired. They all were. Cody had yet to say anything, but he didn't exactly want to. What happened down there wasn't his fault in any way, and yet, he couldn't help but feel guilty. Boil's obviously growing resentment towards him wasn't helping. 

Cody knew Davijaan was listening. Why he hasn't said anything was probably the same reason he hasn't.

The rest of the flight back to _The Negotiator_ was met with silence.

* * *

Once they finally landed in the hangar, Boil was the first to storm off the gunship and to god knows where. Wooley and Crys followed not far behind, though they didn't have as much fervour in their steps. Cody was last off the ship, his shoulders slumped as he lingered around for a few moments. 

Davijaan took notice of this as he hopped out of the cockpit. "Sir," he said hesitantly as he approached Cody. When Cody didn't respond or turn around, he decided to take a more adamant approach.

"Cody."

Cody hummed. He usually would've reprimanded him for being so informal while still on duty, but he wasn't exactly in the mood. "Davijaan," he greeted. He turned to face him despite his own mind's protesting.

"Are you alright?" Davijaan asked. It was more of a demand than a question, and Cody heard the unspoken _don't lie to me_.

"Fine," he replied nonchalantly. He heard it, but he didn't care. 

Davijaan crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Uh-huh."

Cody let out an irritated sigh and threw his head back slightly. "What do you want me to say? Oh yeah, I'm doing _great_ , thanks for asking." 

Even with his helmet on, Cody could see the unimpressed look on Davijaan's face. If not for the circumstances in which they were having this conversation, he probably would've laughed. God knows he needed it. It's been too long since that's happened, and things haven't exactly been getting any better.

"Sir, whatever happened down there was beyond your control. It was in no way your fault. At all," Davijaan spoke slowly, making sure the words didn't fly over Cody's head as words of affirmation so often did. 

"I know," Cody rasped. He knew, yet it didn't make him feel any less guilty. 

His helmet was facing his brother, but his eyes weren't. He heard Davijaan sigh just barely audible enough to be picked up by his helmet's modulator. He put a hand on his shoulder and Cody did his best not to flinch. 

"Take care of yourself, Kote."

Cody's heart wrenched. _Glory_. He had a duty to protect his brothers, and he failed. They died, and for what? In the end, they retreated anyway. He didn't deserve that name. 

"I will," he managed to say through gritted teeth. It was a lie. He knew it was a lie, and he knew Davijaan was well aware. But he said nothing, only letting his hand linger on his shoulder for a few more moments before dropping it unceremoniously to his side and walking away without another word, leaving Cody alone to his own devices. 

Cody sighed as he rolled his shoulders. Enough vulnerability for one day. It was time to step back into his Commander boots. He had a debriefing with the General to attend.

* * *

"They were expecting us, sir. They had an entire fully fortified barricade waiting for us." 

Kenobi stroked his beard as he frowned in thought, a gesture he so often did. He looked...distressed, to say the least. 

When he didn't say anything, Cody took that as a queue to continue. "They had anti-air turrets, resulting in us being unable to call for back up. They had full advantage of the terrain. The fog covered their position while we were completely exposed. As if we weren't easy pickings for them already, they decided to top it all off with a defoliator, sir."

Kenobi's eyes widened. "Defoliator?" he asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Cody clarified. He understood his General's shock. Defoliators were supposed to be out of commission - until now, it seemed. 

"How could this be?" Kenobi muttered, more to himself than to Cody. He replied anyway.

"I'm not sure, sir. But this is...concerning."

"Indeed," Kenobi agreed, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes becoming more evident. This war was ageing the man beyond his years. "How many did we lose?"

"72, sir," he said without missing a beat. He didn't need to look at the casualty list, he didn't need to mull it over. He knew how many men were deployed, and he knew how many he came back with.

"I see things didn't exactly go according to plan down there, Commander."

A flash of irritation consumed Cody but he was quick to regain his composure, lest his Jedi General sense it with his all-powerful Force powers. Was that all he had to say? Of course, it didn't go according to plan, Republic Intelligence is a fucking joke!

Kenobi was looking at him now, eyes filled with concern. Perhaps he wasn't keeping his thoughts as well shielded as he thought he was. Normally, he'd be mortified, but he just couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. 

"I'm sorry, Cody. This wasn't supposed to happen," he said sadly. 

Kenobi may have been a compassionate and effective General, but an apology was the last thing Cody expected to hear from him. 

"Sir?"

Kenobi's eyes didn't meet his as he read through the casualty list. 72 soldiers. 72 men. The further he scrolled, the deeper the creases between his brows got. Casualty lists only ever listed CT numbers, of course, so he couldn't fathom as to why his General even bothered to scroll through all of them instead of just looking at the total listed below. 

"Did they have names?" he spoke finally. 

Cody swallowed down the lump in his throat. He was _not_ going to start bawling just because someone who wasn't a clone cared about his brothers. 

"Yes, sir," he replied before adding: "I'm not sure if all of them did- some were still shinies, probably haven't even picked a name." His heart ached at the thought of the nameless vod'e. They didn't even get the chance to pick their own names yet - one of the few senses of individuality a clone could have.

Kenobi hummed in acknowledgement but said nothing. He only seemed to be getting even sadder.

Cody was starting to feel uncomfortable at his General's vulnerableness. He cleared his throat against his better judgement and was immediately mortified after the fact. Kenobi seemed to get the message, though. 

"Right, well," he began, regaining his composure. "Assuming The Separatists didn't know we were coming, they were very heavily fortified nonetheless. Which begs the question, what are they so adamant in protecting?"

* * *

Cody felt as if his own weight was too much to carry as he dragged himself through the corridors. He wanted more than anything to settle into the silent privacy of his barracks, but he was also starving. The medbay could wait, Wooley would forgive him. Hell, Wooley might not even mind. He rarely ever grabbed an actual meal from the mess. He only ever munched on those nasty ration bars as he worked away in his barracks.

As the doors to the mess hall slid open, he was greeted by the indistinct chatter of troopers all over. As his eyes scanned through the crowd, he noticed that none of the men that came back with him were here. That would explain the unbothered cheerfulness of the troopers that _were_ present, though. 

Cody sighed. He felt guilty for even being here all of the sudden. That seemed to be a reoccurring theme with him lately - guilt. He shoved the feeling down. He'd get a few bites in and get the hell out, retreat to the comfort of his own barracks - _retreat, just like he did only a few hours ago_. 

He shut his eyes, trying to push the thought away. Though, his efforts were evidently futile. He bit the inside of his cheek as he made his way over to the food bar. His movements were stiff, tense. He knew the other troopers had better things to do than gawk at their Commander, but he felt a sudden rush of anxiety that was telling him they were. Gawking at him, staring at him. Their Commander - their _brother_ , that didn't bring 72 other brothers back with him. 

He grabbed his food - some fruit slices and some sort of dried up meat jerky - and made his way over to an unoccupied table. He wanted to be alone. He wasn't in the mood for conversation. As he set his eyes on his tray, he saw a figure take a seat in front of him out of the corner of his eye, and he fought hard to resist the urge to groan. 

Instead, he picked up a piece of fruit with his fork and took a bite before glancing up to see who the perpetrator was. His blood ran cold in his veins at the sight of Boil. He had his own food tray in front of him, but he didn't seem to show any interest in actually eating. His gaze was unwaveringly pointed towards Cody, and even though he outranked him in every way, he couldn't help but feel off-put by it. 

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" Cody asked, trying to seem undeterred by his actions.

Boil scoffed. "Enjoying your food, sir?" he asked instead, obviously mocking him. 

"Plenty," Cody replied plainly, uninterested in taking part in whatever game Boil was playing at. 

Boil let out an airy chuckle that sounded nothing like amusement. "I'm sure you are, sir." He shifted his gaze toward the food in his tray, poking at it with his fork but still not eating anything.

The two were silent for a long moment that seemed to stretch into minutes. Neither of them looked at each other, just eating their food in silence. Cody wanted to tell him to leave if he had no business here, but he was content in maintaining that silence. Even though he was no Jedi, he could _feel_ the anger rolling off Boil in waves - the irritation, the resentment - in the way his shoulders were set a little too tightly, how he chewed his food a little too aggressively.

In the end, Cody relented despite himself. "What do you want, Boil?" he sighed, irritated, but also tired.

Boil's gaze snapped up to him a little too quickly as if he'd been waiting for Cody to say something first this entire time. "Sir?" he asked innocently. 

Cody glared at him. He was in no mood for any more of his games, and he was determined in making that fact known. "Why do you hate me?" The question slipped out against his will and he clamped his mouth shut. 

Boil stared at him for a moment, not in shock, but something else entirely...satisfaction? "Glad you finally cared enough to notice, sir," he growled out, voice laced with venom. 

Cody, trying his best to seem unphased by it, shot him a questioning look and said nothing. Boil took that as a queue to continue. 

"But...hate is a strong word. Wouldn't you agree, Commander?" he taunted. He edged closer toward Cody. "Though, I suppose it's justified."

"Do enlighten me," Cody shot back, feeling more agitated than he did before. 

"With pleasure," Boil said as the corner of his mouth curled up into a smile Cody could only describe as sadistic. "How many, Commander?"

Cody raised an eyebrow at the question.

"How many more men will it take for you to realise that you have a more important duty than winning wars? How many more of us have to die- have to go on fighting wars that have nothing to do with us, just waiting for that blaster bolt to finally end it all?"

"It seems your anger would be more suitably directed at The Republic, not me." Boil was understandably angry, but that kind of talk was treasonous nonetheless. He'd better be careful.

"Oh please, Commander. You're just as guilty as they are. Guilty of the genocide of your own _brothers_ ," he hissed.

That hit a nerve. It took everything in Cody not to get up and teach him a lesson right then and there. Instead, he leaned forward, eyes growing dark as he glared at Boil. "Watch your tongue, trooper," he warned. 

Boil gladly returned the glare, unphased by Cody's dangerous shift in mood. "What's wrong, Commander? Afraid of the truth?" he spat. "You may not be the one behind the trigger, but you're guilty all the same. You're no better than that _aruetii,_ Fox."

Cody slammed his fists onto the table and stood up at that, attracting the attention of all the other troopers in the mess, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "He is a _Commander_ ," he growled. "Put some respect on his name."

Boil scoffed. "He's not _my_ Commander," he retorted. 

"No, but I am!" Cody allowed his voice to rise. Disrespect towards him was intolerable enough, but disrespect towards fellow Commanders? That's where he drew the line. Fox made a mistake, but he had no right to hold it over his head. Boil didn't know Fox the way he did, even if it's been too long since they'd last met. 

Boil stood up to eye level with him. "I'm beginning to see a pattern here, sir," he said calmly. Too calm in response to Cody's own outburst.

Cody glared at him, silently challenging him to go on. He did. 

"'Commander' is just another word for _brother killer._ "  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aruetii - traitor
> 
> note: ive decided im gonna try rewrite this story. i just dont really like how the previous chapters turned out. ill still keep this story up though but it'll be labelled as [old] and the new story (titled akaan'ade) will still include this chapter


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